


Claimed

by TempestWolfe



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Adorable, Best Friends, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Slow Burn, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-15 01:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 47,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17519576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempestWolfe/pseuds/TempestWolfe
Summary: The day I was born the doctors pointed out to my parents the intricate circular design on the inside of my left wrist. I was claimed. Neither of my parents was claimed, but both knew what it meant. Somewhere out there, or maybe not even born yet, was a person destined for their newborn son. They named me Daniel James Howell.





	1. Prologue

There are two types of people in the world—the claimed and the unclaimed. The claimed are born with a mark on one of their wrists, an intricate, unique design, which only matches their claimmate’s, or soulmate’s. For every five people, only one is born claimed, for no specific reason at all. Scientists have been trying for years to figure out why the claimed are marked, and how they find each other. All they know is that the moment two soulmates make eye contact, they are officially Bonded—both will know instantly that they have found their other half. Unfortunately, just because you have a claim mark doesn’t mean you’ll find your soul mate. The law dictates that even if you meet your soulmate before the age of 18, you can’t be together until both parties are legal adults. This rule was made to protect younger soulmates, but also because scientists found that 99% of all soulmates meet before 18 years of age and each year after 18, the chance of finding your soulmate decreases exponentially. If your soulmate dies, your mark will fade.

The day I was born the doctors pointed out to my parents the intricate circular design on the inside of my left wrist. I was claimed. Neither of my parents was claimed, but both knew what it meant. Somewhere out there, or maybe not even born yet, was a person destined for their newborn son. They named me Daniel James Howell.

When I was five, I asked my mother what the mark on my wrist was, and she explained claimed people to me. How somewhere out there was a girl or boy, was already waiting for me. After that, I spent all of my time imagining what life would be like once I met my soul mate, my other half, my best friend. My mother warned me I might not ever meet my soulmate, but like her and Dad, love can be found with or without marks. I refused to listen, determinedly making eye contact with everyone I saw, waiting for the moment when I finally met my soulmate.

There are hundreds of stories explaining what it feels like to make eye contact with your soulmate for the first time. Some say the mark burns, some say it ripples across your skin, still others say the feeling of warmth creeps from your wrist through your whole body.

I started kindergarten when I was five, and I was one of four claimed children in my class. The first thing I did when I learned addition and numbers was to count how many years I had left to meet my soul mate, 13 whole years. My parents encouraged me not to focus too much on my soulmate, as most soulmates met naturally like two of my classmates who found each other the day kindergarten started. I refused to listen. I was so enveloped in dreams of my soulmate that I never could focus in school. I had no friends, and often would eat lunch by myself, everyone existing around my introverted bubble. Eventually, I decided to switch schools. Although I never stopped thinking about my soulmate, I did make one friend. Her name was Louise, and she was the happiest person I had ever met. She had a huge smile and long blonde hair. We met in year 8. She was unclaimed, but that didn’t stop her from claiming nearly every attractive boy, whether they were claimed or not. The two of us, however different, were pretty good friends. She would often drag me to along to parties with her other friends. I didn't mind being the appendage. It was better than having nobody. 

Now, we were both on the verge of starting Year 10, she was giddy with excitement over incoming boys, and I was praying that somehow, in the next four years, I would find my soul mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is my first Dan and Phil Fanfiction!  
> I would appreciate any comments, suggestions or constructive criticism.  
> I will do my best to update as often as I can!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, 
> 
> ~TempestWolfe


	2. September 6th, Year 10

I wake with a start, heart pumping a little too fast. With an insistent wail, my alarm clock howls my good morning. Flailing through the covers to the side of the bed, I grab my phone and frantically turn the alarm off, wilting in relief. Early sunlight is just starting to filter through my shades, and I hop out of bed, fumbling around my room, eyes half shut, for the bathroom door.

The shower is hot, and my stomach twists itself into a knot as I catch sight of the dark blue mark on the inside of my wrist. I start shampooing my hair, determined to focus on something else. Today is the first day of Year 10, and I will graduate on my 18th birthday. 1372 days to meet my soulmate. Hurrying out of the shower, I dry myself off. Grabbing my phone, I turn on some music to block the freight train of my thoughts.

_“Oh, well imagine. As I’m pacing the queues of a church corridor and I can’t help but to hear…”_

I pull on a black tee-shirt, ripped black jeans, and ratty sneakers. Once I finish packing my bag, I head down the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Good morning!”

Mum is sitting at the dining table, her usual tea and banana beside her, reading the second half of the newspaper. Dad is next to her, with his coffee, reading the other half of the paper.

“Good morning, Daniel.” Dad replies, eyes glued to the paper.

“Do you want some breakfast? We’ve got cereal in the cabinet.” Mom adds, also remaining focused on the news.

“Er, no. I’ll be fine.” I reply lamely.

I hear Adrian come thundering down the stairs, wearing a bright red shirt and jeans. He’s only ten and has just reached the age where annoying everybody, especially me, is his favorite hobby.

“Morning Mum, Dad!” He grins, bumping me out of the way as he gives them both hugs.

“Oh, baby you look so nice!” Mum coos as he sits down at the table

“Mum.” He tries to fend her kisses off

“My baby’s going to Year 6! Are you nervous?”

“Mum, it’ll be fine,” I reply, glancing at the clock “Come on, Adrian, we’ll miss the bus.”

“Fine.” He groans, getting up and slinking over towards the front door.

“Have a good day, boys!” Dad calls after us

“You too!” shouts Adrian

Adrian is not one of the claimed. He was crushed, at the time, to realize that I had something he never could. Mum and Dad shower him in affection, almost as if they are trying to make up for the fact he doesn’t have a soulmate. The three of them have always been closer, I guess because Adrian is more like them: he will have to find his perfect match on his own. Mum always says I’m distant, thinking too much about my future and not spending enough time in the moment. Maybe that’s true.

The screeching and wheezing of the bus engines pulling to a stop snaps me out of my thoughts. I climb onto the bus, following Adrian, and I head to the back, curling up against the window as the doors shut and the bus lurches forward. Everyone is chatty with excitement, or first day of school nerves. I put my headphones in and close my eyes, the noise of the bus muffled.

_“I ponder of something great. My lungs fill and then deflate. They fill with fire, exhale desire. I know it’s dire, my time today…”_

The bus wheezes to a stop again and everyone piles off, the younger students heading down the hill, the older students heading to the looming stone building straight ahead. I wander forwards, eyes down, headphones still on, cringing at the shouts of delight as people fling themselves at their friends. I can see Louise chatting excitedly, already surrounded by a crowd. She waves excitedly at me and I give her a halfhearted wave back before ducking into the building and heading towards my locker.

Someone pulls off my headphones, shouting “Hey stranger!”

I turn to see Louise, just seconds before she wraps me up in a tight hug “You could’ve at least stopped to say hi! I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“We played board games with Bryony and Wirrow two weeks ago.” I reply, releasing her from the hug and stepping back.

“Exactly! _Ages_ ago.” She sighs dramatically, her bright pink lips making an exaggerated pout “and we only have _one_ class together this year!”

“Well, English is better than nothing.” I shrug and she swats my shoulder

“You could at least _act_ like you’re- oh! He’s cute!”

I turn to see she has her eyes glued on a confident, dark-haired student, probably in Year 12.

“Don’t look.” She chides, spinning back towards my locker “Do you think he’s single? Should I go talk to him. Oh he’s talking to that other girl-“

Nodding as she speaks, I start shoving my books into the small space with abandon. I turn back to look at him, and he glances over. We make eye contact.

Brown eyes meet brown.

Nothing.

I drop my gaze and see he has a claim mark on his wrist, though it’s different from mine.

“He’s claimed, Lou.” I murmur, turning back towards her

“I’m just browsing.” She grins, giving him another once-over.

I bite my tongue, unwilling to tell her off. She’s gotten herself heartbroken before, being in relationships with claimed men while being unclaimed.

“But you’re right. He’s cute, but it’s the first day of school. And he’s claimed. In any case, I’m going to keep my options open. We really should work on finding your soulmate.”

“We’ve got four years.” I shrug

“Yeah, but how cool would it be to have her for winter formal and everything!” She smiles, leaning against the locker next to mine

“What do you have first?” I deflect her question,

“Double Maths.” She wrinkles her nose at the idea “You?”

“Double German.” The bell rings and I stifle a groan.

“Better get on with it then. See you around, Dan!” She cheerfully presses a kiss to my check before sauntering off.

I wipe the lipstick from my face and head to class.

 

The four periods before lunch swirl by in a frenzy of books, new schedules, and syllabuses—my least favorite part of the school year. I breathe a sigh of relief when the chaos of the hallways dies down as everyone leaves for lunch.

“You coming, Dan?” Louise, who has the ability to appear out of nowhere, has just turned the corner, surrounded by a group of her friends, including the two I actually like, Bryony and Wirrow. The two of them are claimmates, and although they’re nice, it’s sometimes hard to be around them.

“Yeah. I’m not very hungry.” I shrug, turning back to my locker

“Alright, suit yourself!” She smiles before marching off to lunch with her group.

I wander the halls, headphones on, music loud.

_"Long ago, just like the hearse, you die to get in again. We are so far from you…."_

“Excuse me?”

I pull my headphones off and turn around to see a beautiful young woman, with long blonde hair and tan skin and a worried expression.

Brown eyes meet hazel.

Nothing.

“Yeah? Sorry. Um-“

“I was just wondering if you were lost. You’re a Year 10 right?” Her smile is bright 

“Yeah.”

“What class do you have?”

“History. Room 229.”

“Well the good news is you’re on the right floor.” She grins “Just down that hallway. Third door on your left.”

“Right. Thanks.” I nod, sliding my headphones back on and heading down the hall.

I find the classroom easily, and walk in, only to notice too late there is someone already at the board. He’s writing TO DO LIST on the board with chalk, his back to me. He has jet black hair, and is dressed in a red, long sleeved collared shirt and black pants. I pull my headphones off and plunk my bag onto a chair, trying to find a way to leave before I have to actually talk to him.

“Hello! Are you a student in my class?” He asks, back still to me

“Yeah. Are you the teacher?” I reply, glancing towards the door, desperately.

“Yes. I’m Mr. Lester. Pleasure to-“ He turns around, hand extended in greeting.

Blue eyes meet brown.

I freeze, breath catching in my throat as the world seems to shrink upon itself. A heartbeat travels through my body from my wrist, where my mark is pulsing in steady beats. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. His eyes are wide, and I can see his hand, extended towards me in greeting, shaking. The claim mark on his right hand, matching the mark on my left, is peeking out of his collared shirt. Another moment and the world becomes steady on its feet and the warmth and pulsing fade.

He is the first to look away, blinking rapidly, breathing in short gasps.

“U-um.” All the years of imagining what meeting my soulmate would be like, what I would say, and my mind is blank.

“Get out.” His voice is quiet, riddled with disbelief

“What?”

“Go.” He orders, putting one hand across his mouth in disbelief, and my heart drops as I notice the gold band on his left hand.

“B-but we’re soulmates.” I whisper, unable to say anything else, my mind still trying to grasp what was happening

“Get out of my classroom!” he shouts, eyes wide with terror.

Shock, hurt and anger well up in me, and unwelcome tears prick the corner of my eyes. I grab my bag, knocking the chair to the floor, and I run from the classroom, tearing down the hallway. I curl up in an empty stairwell, as two tears track down my face. I wipe away at them, angrily.

How was this even possible? He is absolutely over 18, and obviously much older than me. He is my teacher for fuck’s sake, and yet, I can’t help but feel the achy pulse of my mark every time I picture his piercing blue eyes and dark hair. The slamming of lockers and shuffling feet, which eventually fall silent, indicate the start of the class period I’m missing. My phone buzzes, and I look at the text from Louise.  
**Where are you? Did you get lost?**

I ignore the text, not willing to share this piece of myself with her just yet.

The stairwell is drafty, and although I’m uncomfortable, I don’t move.

“I should switch classes.” I murmur aloud, but I can’t help the new round of pain that brings.

I’ll never have another soulmate. It’s just him. He has someone else, obviously, he’s married but…I’m his soulmate. Not that he wants me. And that’s fine.

Or that would be fine, except for the fact I am already in love with him.

I wait in the silent dusky light of the stairwell for the school day to end. I hear the shuffle of students in the hallway outside the door but I don’t move. I’ll come out when it quiets down. The door opens and I duck my head.

“Dan? That’s, um, that’s your name, right?” A warm, soft voice stutters, but I don’t need to look up to know who it is.

“Why are you here?” I murmur, furious at myself for being unable to keep the emotion from my voice.

“I wanted to see you.” I look up to glare at him, and my heart skips a beat as our eyes meet, but my fury overpowers my growing addiction to his presence.

“Me.” I deadpan “Really. I thought you made it very clear that you wanted the exact opposite.”

He slowly sits next to me, on my left, folding his long legs up in front of him, back against the wall like me. I shift away from him.

“I’m sorry.” He continues, talking as if I am some wounded animal.

“You…you don’t get to be sorry. You humiliated me.” I whisper, fighting the tears clogging my chest “You ruined it. You-that should have been one of the best moments of my life.”

“I know. I…” He struggles for the words “I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”

“It didn’t seem like it. Your first words were ‘get out.’” I snarl back

“I know-” “Stop saying that. We both know you know.” I snap at him, turning to glare at him and he remains silent. His blue eyes are wide, confused. His lips are pressed together, and look so soft. His skin is so pale its almost translucent and contrasts strikingly with his jet black hair, styled in an attractive quiff. I turn away, not allowing myself to stare any more.

“I just…” he pauses. “I don’t really know what to do.”

“You’re married.” I state.

“Yes.” he sighs

“Why didn’t you wait for me? You were claimed!” I yell again, looking back at him

“I’m 26! It’s been 8 years since I was supposed to have found my claim mate! I thought you were dead! I learned to move on!” He defends

“I would have waited.” I glare at him.

“And gave up any chance of a happy life? It took me four years to even go on a date after I hadn’t found my claim mate!”

I let silence fall again.

“I was broken. I spent 13 years pining for a soulmate, and he never appears. I wait, another four. Then I meet a young man who makes me smile, and for the first time since I was a child, makes me forget about the mark on my right wrist. I married him almost 2 years ago.”

“Are you happy?” I ask, heart breaking

“Yeah.” He nods “I think, but…now I’ve met you….” his voice is hesitant.

I don’t respond for a moment.

“Now what?” I whisper after a couple seconds of silence.

Another pause.

“You…” I struggle for the words “You don’t have to love me…I just need you not to hate me.”

“Dan I don’t hate you.” His voice is gentle, and it takes my breath away.

I risk looking at him again. His eyes seem to suck me in, and I have never wanted anything more than to put my hand against his cheek, to lean in, to-

“I hate these circumstances. I wish…” He interrupts my thoughts

“I was older? That we met earlier?” I fill in, sadly

“Yes. Either or both.” He sighs

Silence falls, but somehow this isn’t as painful as the others

“Can I…?” He sits up straighter, shifting just a bit closer to me. “May I…?” his right-hand hovers over my left arm.

I nod, and he carefully lifts up my forearm, so he can look at my mark. A shock passes through my body as his cool fingers touch my arm. His thumb traces the design on my arm for a moment. Placing my hand back down, he undoes the cuff of his shirt, rolling it back revealing his porcelain arm, decorated with the matching claim mark. I reach over, running my fingers along the mark I’ve been looking for since I was five. I try not to notice the way his breath hitches, uncontrollably.

“What’s your name? First name?” I ask, looking up at him. My chest tightens at our closeness.

“Phillip. Phil.” “Phil.” I repeat, and he inhales quickly, before looking away.

“Y-you can call me Phil if you um, I mean when we’re not with um-“He glances back at me

“I know.” I smile slightly at him and his eyes meet mine.

I notice the ring of yellow and green around his irises, surrounded by blue.

My heart flutters.


	3. October 12th, Year 10

After a month, the unfamiliarity of having a soulmate still hadn’t worn off. I hadn’t told anyone, as I didn’t really have anyone to tell. I spent as much time with Phil as I could, even if it was just asking idiotic questions about the course or different assignments for his class. Inevitably, we would get off topic and end up talking for too long about anything and everything.

It’s hard not to be frustrated with our situation. I know I’m just a kid, at 14, and he’s 26 and has a husband and everything, and that makes everything so hard—and pretty illegal—so we’ve settled in the awkward space between a teacher, a friend, and a soulmate.

I hurry down the hallway, grateful for the last class of the day to have finally ended. Phil and I are meeting to discuss and edit my comparative essay for his class.

“Dan!” I hear Louise’s shout

I turn, trying not to look too irritated as the energetic blonde bounces up to me

“Louise.” I sigh

“A couple of us are going to head into town now if you’d like to come. There’s a little shop that has some hot chocolate and cider we were planning on staying in for a bit. We haven’t seen much of each other outside of class since school started and-“

“I’m sorry Louise, but I’ve got a meeting with uh, Mr. Lester.”

“Since when do you care about school?” she squints at me

I shrug “Have to start caring at some point. My parents want me to go to uni and all.”

She laughs “Alright then. Maybe next time?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” I nod, and she saunters off

Turning, I continue towards Phil’s office. Before I have the chance to knock, he opens the door. 

“Come on in.” he urges, with a smile. I return the smile, before mentally kicking myself for the way my heart rate has already picked up.

“You’re not usually late.” He comments, sitting down in his desk chair, shifting his papers to make room for my things.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up talking to Louise-" I start, pulling the extra chair he keeps in his office to his desk.

“Relax, you’re fine.” He chuckles “I don’t mind.”

We’re so close. Our legs can’t be more than four inches apart, as we’re crammed at the same desk, turned slightly to look at each other. If I wanted to, I could just lean forward and-

“Now, what book did you choose again?”

 “Uh, The Hobbit.”

“Ah, excellent choice.” He compliments, and I blush, immediately looking down to fumble with my bag before finally extracting the essay and handing it to him. I watch, nervous, as his blue eyes scan my piece, and just the corners of his mouth turn up, before his eyes crinkle, a short chuckle escapes him.

“What?” I demand, but he continues reading, not answering me.

He laughs again.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s good.” He sits back, looking at me.

“What?” I ask again

“I told you, it’s good!”

“Then why are you laughing?” I can feel the blush raging across my face and wish it would fade.

“I’m not.” He chuckles again

“Yes, you are!”

“It’s just…It’s good!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“You’re insufferable” He groans, his adorable smirking smile flashing across his face

I laugh out loud, “and you’re stuck with me.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, regret fills me. My heart clogs my throat, and I see the implication of my words ripple across Phil's face, and it becomes closed off, conflicted before he shakes it off. Even though everything seems to be against the two of us, we are paired together, forever.

 “So what do you like to read?” I ask, changing the subject

“Everything.” He answers, seriously, his eyes bright

 “I should have known that, seeing as you’re an English teacher.” I tease

“Are you making assumptions about me because of my profession?” He mock gasps

“Yes, I am.”

“Then do you hate to read just because you’re a student?” He counters

“Yeah, actually, but there are always books that meet my very high bar.”

“Like?”

“Harry Potter.”

“I’ve never read it.” 

“What?” I gasp in mock horror, and he laughs, his whole face brightening, his tongue stuck out between his teeth. I can’t breathe.

“I know, I know, I really need to.” He replies, still laughing a bit 

“Yes! Those books were my childhood!” I manage to gasp “I’m serious you need to read them!”

“I’ll start this weekend.”

“Pinky promise?” I hold out my hand

“Pinky promise.” He replies, reaching forward to link our pinkies. 

I freeze for a moment, my mark pulsing furiously, his eyes warm. He breaks away first.

“So, regarding your essay, there are a few grammatical errors…”

We spend the next half hour carefully adjusting word order and grammar and more.

“I’m fairly sure we’ve made that essay as perfect as it could be.” He sighs, sitting back.

“Uh, alright.” I force a smile, not wanting to leave. I start gathering my things “Thank you so much for your help.”

He has almost a pained expression on his face as I grab my bag and stand.

“Do you need help with anything else?” He bursts out.

I turn around.

Although his face is neutral, I can’t help but think his eyes look almost…hopeful.

“Oh, well, if you want to…”

“Of course. Anything to help!” He replies, quickly and I my heart flutters.

“I have a research paper due in History in a few weeks, and I have my outline due on Friday…”

“I hated doing research essays like that in school. I made a great system to make it go quickly if you’d like?”

“That would be great!” I sit back beside him, dropping my bag back on the floor.

“Hang on, let me just find where I filed it…”

He hops out of his chair and digs through the practically overflowing file cabinet next to him. He is definitely not the cleanest or most organized person I have ever met.

I survey his desk, eyes catching sight of wedding photos. ‘Phil and PJ’ the curly script on the bottom of the frame reads.

There are three photos, in the same frame. One, they’re looking at each other, the second they’re with their wedding party and the third, dancing, their face lit up.

I lean closer, noticing something strange about the photo.

His Mark isn’t there.

“Dan?”

I look up, and he’s staring at me

“Sorry. He looks like a nice guy.”

“Thank you.” His voice is measured.

“Where’s your mark in this picture? It’s your right hand but no mark.”

“I covered it with foundation.”

“Why?”

“I started doing that after PJ urged me to stop thinking about my claim mate and move on. Long sleeves and occasionally make up.”

“Oh.” I nod, and he carefully rolls up his sleeve, revealing his mark.

“No make-up since I met you. I need the reminder you exist.”

“Ah.” I blush slightly, and he doesn’t roll down his sleeve.

“Didn’t you know that I was still alive?” I blurt out before I can help myself “Because your mark didn’t fade?”

“I checked every day, and I don’t know. I couldn’t decide if I wanted it to fade or not. PJ convinced me that sometimes it didn’t fade at all and to just start covering it myself. That’s why I started with the foundation.”

“Ah.”

We both look at his mark, still proud, dark blue/black lines against his skin.

An awkward silence follows.

“Okay, so how about we finish your outline?” He offers.

We end up spending hours working on my outline, then my science notebook, and by chance, he took German, so he helped me with that as well, though that was a bit of a desperate attempt at me spending more time with him. He really wasn’t very good. In any case, our meeting has descended into a side conversation again.

“I’m the youngest so when I was a kid I wanted nothing more than to be exactly like my older brother.” He explains

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Just the one—a brother, Martyn.”

“Oh.” I smile “So you’re the annoying little brother?”

“Hey!” He gasps “I take it you’re the obnoxious older brother?”

I laugh “Yeah, that’s me. I’m sure everyone in my house believes that. My brother is four years younger. His name is Adrian.”

Something has changed in Phil’s face. “What…what do you mean everyone believes that?”

I shrug “No one in my family is claimed besides me. That sort of helped make me an outcast at home. Adrian is showered in affection, and can’t do a thing wrong, but I’m a bit of a screw-up.” Smiling, I halfheartedly trying to play it off like a joke but Phil doesn’t even smile.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s really not.” He stares intensely at me, his blue-green eyes filled with concern and sympathy.

“Thank you.”

My phone buzzes, breaking us from the moment. I bite back a curse as I dig through my bag and pull it out.

“It’s my brother.” I groan, reading the text “I’m going to miss the bus.”

“Okay, well, at least we got some work done.” He stands, picking up his bag. “I’ll walk you out…if you’d like?”

“Thank you.” I nod, and we leave the empty office and head down the hall and down the stairs in silence.

“Phil?”

“Yes?”

“When’s your birthday?”

“January 30th. Yours?”

“Mine is June 11th.”

 Phil reaches the front door first, holding it open for me. I notice his sleeve is still rolled up.

“Phil, your sleeve,” I warn

“Ah, yes.” He hurriedly rolls it down “Thank you.”

“Where are you headed?” I ask as we walk through the door, and down the darkened sidewalk.

“Phil! I’m over here!” Calls an unfamiliar voice.

Phil reacts immediately, looking over to a dark sedan.

“Is that PJ?” I murmur.

This is my first time seeing PJ in person.

“Yes.” Phil answers back, just as quietly.

There’s something in his expression I can’t read as he looks at me.

“I guess you need to go.” I nod, stepping away from him, suddenly noticing how close we were, arms almost touching.

“Yeah.” He nods, and I turn, starting off towards the bus.

“Dan?” He calls, and I turn back to him.

“Yes?”

His smile is soft “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

I turn away again and hurry off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> I realized I never dedicated this piece:  
> This whole story is for my best friend--the girl who first showed me Dan and Phil. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all for reading!
> 
> ~Tempest Wolfe


	4. October 31st, Year 10

“Come on boys! You’ll be late for school!” Bellows my Dad from downstairs

“Coming!” I yell back, glancing in the mirror one more time.

I usually hate Halloween—all the dress up, and makeup and everyone pretending to be something they aren’t as if they don’t do that every day anyway—but Phil made a point of asking about Halloween, as he really likes it, so I lied and said I was going to be a vampire.

Which is why I have my hair slicked back with all the hair gel in the house, and I’m wearing fake fangs glued to my incisors, a white collared shirt, black jeans and a long, dark cloak made out of my old bedsheets. I almost added black nail polish—for the costume, of course, I wouldn’t want to otherwise—but then I figured it wasn’t worth it.

“Daniel!” Shouts Dad

“Coming!” I yell again, grabbing my bag and running down the stairs. Adrian is dressed up as some TV show character I don’t know and looks especially annoyed today. Both my Dad and brother seem surprised to see me in costume.

“What?” I demand, feeling somewhat silly, and still getting used to the new teeth.

“I thought you hated Halloween,” Dad asks, brow furrowed

“Yeah, you’re always moaning about trick or treating,” Adrian adds 

“Well, I, er” I fumble, suddenly realizing I can’t explain the real reason behind my costume “I’m going out tonight. With Louise. And a couple of friends. You know. Need a costume for that.”

“You’re actually going to be social?” Adrian mocks and I glare at him, but before I can respond, the bus pulls up.

“Bye Dad!” yells Adrian before he runs out of the door.

I follow him and pull on my headphones, careful not to mess up my hair, before boarding the bus and slumping into the back seat.

_“This is gospel, for the fallen ones, locked away in permanent slumber. Assembling their philosophies from pieces of broken memories….”_

By the time the bus stops, I am already regretting my costume. It’s uncomfortable to carry a backpack with the cloak, and the teeth are exceptionally annoying.

Trudging up the sidewalk towards the school, a flash of pink fills my peripheral vision.

“Dan! You dressed up!” cries Louise, hugging me, “I thought I’d never see the day.”

“Yeah.” I force a smile, and she gasps at the fake teeth “figured why not…”

“You look amazing! Absolutely brilliant!” she gushes, and I take a moment to figure out her costume.

“Are you…Glinda, the good witch?”

“Yeah, I am! Like it? The whole gang dressed up as the Wizard of Oz! Would’ve asked you but didn’t see the point because you never dress up…Anyway, you should see Bryony! She’s the Wicked Witch of the West!”

“Actually, I was wondering if, er, I could go out with you guys tonight. I mean, if you want. Obviously, this is last minute-“

Her face drops from a smile to a somber face “I’m sorry, but who are you and just what have you done with my friend Dan?”

“I-“

“I mean it! I thought 'Oh hey, Dan’s finally gotten his head out of his ass and actually wants to participate in Halloween,' But Dan asking to go to a party? No way.”

“Shut up, Lou” I mumble giving her a playful shove, flashing a smile so she knows I’m not mad “I’m serious.”

“I don’t know what has gotten into you Dan Howell, but I like it!” She shrieks

I can’t help but picture the lit-up expression Phil made talking about Halloween. All giddiness and giggles and waving his hands around like a maniac. 

Snapping back to the present, I realize Louise has been talking, and I haven’t heard a word.

“What?”

“I said, we’re all pregaming around 5:30 at my house so just come by then.” She smiles “You haven’t decided to back out now, have you?”

“No, no of course not. Thanks, Louise.”

“Anytime, Dan. Seriously. Anytime.” She flounces away, and I shake my head before heading into school.

We have English fifth period. Although I’ve been sitting here since the start of the lunch period, hoping, somewhat childishly, that Phil will come to class early too, but he doesn’t. The bell rings, and the classroom slowly fills with other students. There’s a sexy ghost, a devil, Raggedy Ann, a couple of people whose costumes I don’t recognize, and, of course, Glinda. 

“I didn’t see you during lunch!” Louise pouts as she takes the seat next to me.

“My wayward soul can only handle so much socialization, Lou.” I tease, dramatically placing my hand over my heart “and I would just rather have fun with you later.”

“Come off it” she huffs, giving me a gentle shove.

The door opens, and Phil walks in.

In a giraffe onesie.

And zombie makeup.

I’m laughing before I can stop myself and he looks over at me, the affronted look on his face somewhat lessened by the slight smirk and poor makeup job.

“What?” he demands

“A zombie Giraffe?” I can’t hide the incredulity in my voice “That’s what you went with?”

“Hey! I make a very good zombie giraffe!” He protests, before looking around to the rest of the class. “Right?”

Murmurs of agreement and halfhearted nods are his response, and he grins proudly “See? Best costume.”

“Right.” I decide to humor him

“Anyway. Class. So, what did you think of the excerpt from “Romeo and Juliet”?

His question is met with silence.

“Come on guys. I know it’s Halloween, and you probably want the school day to just be over, but you should participate! Did you like the scene? Was it hard to understand? Do you like or dislike any of the characters?”

He continues around the classroom, looking at each of us. My smile slides off my face as I notice Raggedy Ann is just staring at Phil, looking him up and down, almost as if she's undressing him with her eyes. Bile of jealously rises in my throat, and when he turns to her, I can’t stop myself.

            “I liked Juliet.” I burst out, desperate to move his attention to me.

He lights up and bounces away from her, towards me, filled with too much energy “Okay, yeah, what did you like about her?”

“She was desperate and sad and hopelessly in love with someone she couldn’t have for no other reason than that’s what her society had decided for her and she denounces it!” I’m getting worked up now, and I frantically flip through the pages of the 'balcony scene' from the play “Like here—she is begging him to ignore the piece of himself that makes it impossible for them to be together even if it has to be kept hidden! ‘What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet! So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee, take all myself!”

I pause to catch my breath after my impromptu speech. The silence is heavy, and nobody moves. My eyes find Phil’s for a half a second, but he looks away. 

“Well, I thought Juliet was a whiney twat.” Louise loudly states and the moment is broken.

“Alright, Louise.” Phil recovers, turning towards her, “Why do you think that, and less of the language please!”

I stare at my papers, face heating up. I should not have done that. Even if no one else knows what I really meant, Phil certainly does, and he’s refusing to look at me.

Class continues and ends uneventfully, and I rush out of the classroom without a second glance.

“Are you okay?” Louise places a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, why?” I shrug her off, irritable

“It’s just…you have been different since the start of the year and not just in good ways like wanting to go to a party and actually trying in class…you know you can talk to me whenever right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Thanks, Lou. It’s just…you know. Stress.”

She nods, but her face still reads like she doesn’t believe me

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

The bell rings

“I’ve got to go. I’ll see you at 5:30.” I promise her, before pulling headphones on and heading down the hallway.

_“Is it still me who makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed? When the lights are dim, and your hands are shaking as you’re sliding off your dress….”_

This was officially the worst idea ever.

The music is far too loud, so loud I can hear it clearly from ten feet outside the house. I’m already tipsy from the rum at Louise’s house.

“Come on guys!” Squeals Louise and the five of us make our way up to the front door of the white house. I notice the leash on the front porch and hope, desperately that there is a dog to keep me company.

Wirrow opens the door, and we pile inside. It’s dark and smells of sweat, alcohol, and smoke. The music is so loud it’s impossible to tell what’s playing. Trash is everywhere, and there’s a cloud of kids grinding on the dance floor, more smoking in the living room, and more pouring out of the kitchen.

Food. Okay.

I weave my way to the kitchen, where I find, thankfully, some pretzels. I munch on those, content in my corner. I glance at my watch. 7:00. Damn it, that’s at least three more hours.

“Daaaaaan!” Drawls Louise as she runs over to me. She has a drink in one hand and reaches out to me with the other. “Come dance with me!”

“Er, Louise, I don’t really-“

She drags me out of the kitchen, still babbling protests, and into the throng of people in the living room, dancing.

I halfheartedly try to match her enthusiasm as she dances without reservation. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Wirrow and Bryony slow dancing even though it’s an upbeat song. The other girl, whose name I keep forgetting, is dancing with a blonde young man I don’t recognize. I take my opportunity when the song changes.

“I’m getting a drink!” I shout at Louise

“What?” She yells back

“A drink!” I yell, miming the movement.

“Yeah!” She nods, before turning to dance with a different guy.

I escape the dance floor and find myself back in the kitchen, which is now painfully bright. I see a bottle of Peach Schnapps and pour a healthy serving into my cup.

Slightly drunk and miserable, I can’t help but fret over my fuck up this afternoon in English. I had to control myself. He’s my soulmate, but he will lose his job—I’ll never see him again—if I keep at it this. If anyone finds out, we’re screwed. The look on his face—

Shock, and pain and panic, that was my fault.

I down the schnapps and pour myself another cup, the sickly-sweet peach taste somehow making me feel a little better. I can be Phil's student. Maybe a bit more—a friend. No more than that. If that’s what it takes to see his tongue-in-teeth smile, jet black hair and soulful blue eyes every day, then I will take it.

“You look lonely.”

I turn to see a young woman, probably a little older than me. She’s got wild brown hair, tied up in a colorful ribbon, and deep, warm eyes that are so dark brown they almost seem black.

“Eh, I’m just…” caught off-guard, I struggle to articulate my reasons

“Here, let me get you some more.” she pours more schnapps into my cup, stepping perhaps a little too close.

She looks nice, and she’s warm, and she stares at me smiling slightly, before licking her lips, taking another step closer. I can smell the alcohol on her breath.

‘Phil!’ my mind screams as I step away from her for a moment ‘your soulmate!’

I shake my head. My friend. No more.

Stepping forward, I let the girl kiss me.

The rest of the night passes in a drunken haze. The girl had spent most of her time working on a hickey just below my collarbone—I don’t remember when I unbuttoned my shirt, maybe she had?—and I had only just managed to shove her away before I vomited peach schnapps all over the floor. Never drinking that again. She had wandered away after that. Louise pulled me back onto the dance floor, and I ended up dancing with this pretty redhead boy about my age—I couldn’t quite read his lips when he said his name. Something starting with a T. Maybe Tim, or Tom?—before he went off to smoke.

I began to get my bearings more in the car. Wirrow, as our designated driver, dropped Louise off at her house, the other girl—whose name I learned was Hazel—at her house, before finally leaving me in my front yard. It was after midnight, and I stumbled through the door and up the stairs to my room, where I collapse in bed.

 


	5. November 17th, Year 10

He’s not here.

My stomach flips as I stare at the unfamiliar face at the front of the class: the old, blonde-haired, brown-eyed woman who seems to be everything Phil is not.

“Er, hello. Where is, I mean, are you a substitute?” I ask her as everyone murmurs around me, filtering into the classroom and making the same realization I just have.

“Ooh, class is going to be fun!” Whispers Louise in my ear as she sits. The woman hasn’t responded to my question, instead focusing on my arriving classmates.

“Um, excuse me, Ma’am.” I force myself to speak again “Where is-“

“Mr. Lester is out.” She replies, shortly. “Now, I am Mrs. James, I will be filling in for Mr. Lester. Now, onto attendance.”

I stifle a groan, knowing exactly what is going to happen. Everyone loves to fuck with the substitute for no reason other than they can, and I hate it.

“Andrew.” Reads Mrs. James

“Here!” replies Sam

“Dan.”

“Here!” I yell, quickly and loudly, before anyone else can claim it

“Killjoy.” Whispers Louise in my ear

“Elaine.”

“Here!” Grins Louise

I roll my eyes as the class continues until everyone is assigned the wrong name. She has us do some independent work, reading and answering questions on “1984”.

I look at my watch- it has been twenty-one hours and 42 minutes since I last saw from Phil, after extra help yesterday afternoon. Maybe Phil was just busy—or sick. I wince at the idea of him sick in bed, but the image soothes my nerves. There is nothing wrong, he just has a cold or something.

The class passes uneventfully, and instead of going to extra help like I usually do, I go home, feeling miserable.

He was gone all week.

By Friday I was too distracted to hear a word my teachers said, only glancing at my claim mark, desperately trying to see if it was fading. What if he was seriously hurt? If he was injured was he holed up, letting his husband take care of him and make him soup and-

“Dan.” I look up at the sound of Louise’s voice. Only then do I notice that everyone has left English already, heading home for the weekend.

“Coming.” I stand, slinging my bag over my shoulder and sulking out of the classroom.

“Daniel! Get up!” I roll over in bed to see my Mum standing over me, arms crossed.

“It’s nearly noon! Don’t you have work to do?”

“Yeah, Mum. But I’ve got it. I can do it.”

“I hope so, the quarter is nearly over!” She replies as she walks out.

Instead of doing my work, I stalk Phil. I am so desperate to see him. I look up his Facebook page, and then his LinkedIn, and even his MySpace.

My focus is destroyed, and I bury my head in my hands, trying not to even indulge in the idea that he might have somehow died. I had just found him; he couldn’t be gone.

“Daniel?”

I turn to see Dad standing in the doorway, looking worried.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Just loads of work to do.” I nod to the papers scattering my desk

“Alright. You better get to it. Just sitting there isn’t going to help anything.” His expression is already one of disinterest.

I bite back a retort and instead nod “No, yeah, I just need to buckle down and focus.”

“Good boy. I’ll see you for dinner.” 

As soon as he shuts the door, I bury my face in my hands again, stifling a bellow of frustration.

It’s so impossible to try and keep this a secret. Phil is my entire world, the light of my life but he is an adult, I am a legal child, and he is married and my teacher and it’s impossible. I can’t even tell Adrian because he’s too young, Mum and Dad wouldn’t understand, Louise would freak out, and I don’t trust anyone else. Except for Phil, of course.

Inhaling shakily, I try to suppress the sobs that build up in my chest. Tears track their way down my cheeks, silently.

Not to mention the fact that I am really trying in school this year, mostly because of Phil’s endless help and encouragement, and Mum and Dad seem never to recognize my effort even though I’ve been getting the best grades of my life this year.

With a start, I realize I do have one way to communicate with him. I dive across the room, yanking my laptop from the far side of my bed and I open it and frantically type an email.

**Mr. Lester,**

**Are you sick? We suffered through a week of a substitute, and she literally was the worst teacher I've ever had she was terrible at explaining your assignments. Can we meet when you get back?**

**Dan**

 

I hit send.

I refresh the email. No response, not that I thought there would be.

 

Homework is tedious, and I’m sure refreshing my email every five minutes isn’t helping.

“Dan!” Adrian comes barging through my door without so much as a knock

“Yes?”

“Mum and Dad want to see you downstairs.”

My stomach drops as all of the terrible scenarios of what’s about to unfold flood through my head.

“Dan?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.” His evil smirk follows me down the stairs, where my parents are seated at the kitchen table.

“Daniel.” My father starts “We wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay.” I nod, cautious.

“Yes. We feel that you should also get a job.”

“What?”

“Well, we think you spend too much time not doing much of anything. You sleep in every weekend, and when you do go to school, you stay after school doing God-knows-what-“

“I’m going to extra help!”

“Of course, you are.” Interrupts my father, condescendingly “Same way you’re actually doing homework alone in your room upstairs.”

“I am! I’ve gotten great grades! I’ve-“

“Don’t shout at us, young man!” Mum interrupts, her voice shrill.

I bite back another comment, staring at my hands, clenched together in my lap.

“We think you need some discipline. Some structure.”

“Fine.” I nod

“Good.” Dad nods

“Am I excused?” I try to keep any frustration from my voice.

“Yes. Go back to your…homework.”

“Actually, I’m going for a walk.” I storm towards the door, grabbing my coat, and slamming it behind me.

By the time I cool down enough to realize where I am, I notice I’ve made my way to the park. Little kids are screaming at the playground nearby, but I head straight for the dog park. Today there are ten of the fluffy four-legged friends. I let myself into the gated area, shutting it behind me. Immediately, a pretty short-haired black lab with a big smile runs and jumps up on me.

“Hey, buddy!” I grin, petting his head

“Thor no!”

I look up in shock to see Phil.

Thor drops back onto all four paws and pads over to Phil, rubbing against his legs.

“Oh.” Smiles Phil, in surprise “Uh, hello Dan! What are you doing here?

“I went for a walk. I swear I’m not a stalker!” I reply, suddenly panicked

“No, I-“ he laughs aloud, his tongue in his teeth, for a moment “I didn’t think that you were!”

I shrug in embarrassment and feel myself blushing

“It is a nice day for a walk, though isn’t it? I’ve been cooped up with the flu all week, so I decided to get out of the house for a bit.” Phil continues

“Yeah, it is.” I look down as Thor trots back over to me. I bend down to pet him, before straightening up to look at Phil “So that’s why you were out of school all week!”

“Yeah, I literally couldn’t move. It was awful.” He wrinkles his nose

I laugh “It couldn’t have been as bad as our substitute. She was horrible! She never explained anything and then made an actual shame list on the board for the kids who bothered her too much!”

“Are you serious?” giggles Phil, “God that does sound awful. Well, you’ll be happy to know that I will be back in school on Monday.”

“Speaking of school, do you think we could meet after class on Monday?” I ask, hopeful

“Yeah, of course.” He smiles back,

“You know, there’s this herbal tea that’s really great for a sore throat if you get sick again. I can write the brand down for you on Monday.”

“Thank you! I usually heal by playing hours of video games as the only thing I want to move is my fingers.”

I can’t help grinning “You play video games? Are you any good?”

“Yeah, my favorites are Mario Kart, Skyrim, Undertale-“

“I love those! I literally spend all of my free time playing video games.”

Phil laughs “I play instead of grading papers, so if I’m really slow you’ll know that’s the reason why!”

“Well, if you want, my username is Danisnotonfire so you can play me whenever we’re online.”

Phil’s smile is hesitant, but his eyes are warm “Yeah, that’d be fun. Mine is AmazingPhil.”

“Wow. Great username.” I tease

“Hey! It’s not like yours is much better!” He fires back

“At least mine isn’t boastful.”

“That’s fair.” Shrugs Phil.

Thor whines, interrupting us, and I start petting him again.

“Thor, a great dog. I’ve always wanted a dog, but my parents say I’m too much of a handful myself.”

He chuckles at that for a moment, but I stop smiling as my thoughts turn back to my parents.

“Yeah. Mum and Dad always think I’m too much of a handful.”

Phil glances at me, the smile sliding off his face, eyes worried.

“They think I’m lazy. Irresponsible.” I blurt before I can stop myself “They told me I don’t spend enough time doing schoolwork, so they’re going to make me get a job. That’s why I came here. Get away for a little bit, you know?” I bury my hands in my pockets, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable.

“You do work hard, you know.” I look up at him in surprise, his eyes are kind, and his small smile radiates comfort “I know you do. You know you do. Don’t let them stop you because they don’t see it too.”

“Thanks.” I not, feeling heat creep up my face.

“And, er, if you want I’ve been looking for someone to walk Thor on the weekends and after school and such. I know it’s not a proper job or anything, but-“

“I would love to do that!” I smile “You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not!” snorts Phil “believe me, it will give me some time to actually grade and help Thor here lose a few.” He pats the dog’s side, and I laugh

“Thank you. Thank you so much!”

“Anytime, Dan. How about you take him out after we meet on Monday?”

“Sounds great! Thank you!”

“No problem.” He glances at his watch “Oof. Well, it was really nice seeing you, Dan, but I better head home. I promised I’d be home before four. Come on, Thor.”

“Yeah, you too. See you Monday.” I reply as he clips Thor’s leash back on and starts towards the gate. “Er, Phil?”

He turns back around, confusion is written all over his face “Yeah?”

“Next time…if you’re sick or something…would you mind shooting me an email? I just…was pretty worried.”

He blinks in surprise, before a small smile forms on his face “Yeah, yeah of course. And you’ll do the same?”

I nod back, smiling slightly. Phil turns around again, and I watch as the two of them head down the path towards the street.

 


	6. December 22nd, Year 10

“Adrian!” I bellow up the stairs, glancing at my watch

“I’m coming!”

“Adrian the bus-“

“I said I’m coming!” He thunders down the stairs, scowling, his brown eyes furious and dark hair hardly brushed.

“Don’t yell at your brother Daniel!” Mom chastises from the kitchen.

“But he-“I start, before realizing the argument is futile. Adrian smirks at me and flounces out the door. Sulking, I follow after him. The air is cold; it’s supposed to snow later today.

Adrian hops onto the bus, and I follow him, wading through the students until I collapse in the backseat. I pull my headphones on over the shrieking; thank God winter break starts tomorrow.

_Say my name, and his in the same breath, I dare you to say they taste the same, let the leaves fall off in the summer and let December glow in flames._

Although I catch sight of Louise out of the corner of my eye, I keep my head down, trying to avoid her as I sneak towards Phil’s office.

“Dan!” Squeals Louise and I freeze, wincing, before turning around with a large smile

“Hey!”

“You’re coming to my party tonight, aren’t you?”

“Er, I don’t think I can, Lou, sorry.”

The smile slides from her face “What do you mean you can’t?” She whines

“I just got some family stuff. I think. Let me check with my Mum and Dad, yeah?”

“Fine.” She draws the word out, into more of a whine.

“I’m really sorry,” I reply, just unable to muster the willpower required to be that social

“It’s fine, Dan.” She rolls her eyes “Are you coming to lunch, at least?”

“Uh,” I glance towards the hall leading to Phil’s office, before accepting defeat, “Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Come on then!” She links her arm in mine and half drags me the opposite way down the hall.

It’s stupid and somewhat weird, but I want to give Phil his Christmas present. He’s gushed for ages about how much he loves the holiday—every day of December he’s worn a somewhat garish and yet, adorable, Christmas jumper, tinsel hangs from his office door, and there’s even a mini Christmas tree. I had wanted to give him my present during lunch, but I will have to wait until after school.

Lunch is painful, Louise chatting away happily as I drift along with her. Two more classes—German and Maths—and then finally the day is over. I rush down the stairs, and through the hallways, flooding with joyous students, finally done with the first semester. Someone’s shoulder slams into mine, turning me slightly, and when I turn back, I nearly run right into Phil.

“Oh, hello!” Phil says in surprise

“Hi! I, er, I wanted to stop by. Give you your, uh Christmas gift.” I babble, growing increasingly hot under his gaze. As I speak his smile only grows, eyes becoming softer, warmer.

“Why don’t you come in?” He offers, gesturing to his well-decorated office door.

I nod, and he unlocks the door, holding it open for me. I sit down in his spare chair, and he sits beside me, the door half-closed behind him.

“Here.” I dig through my backpack before producing a slightly mashed present I had wrapped last night. “Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you.” He accepts the ugly little thing and starts to unwrap it, pulling the red and green paper off carefully to reveal a brown box. He opens it and laughs.

Panic, and then embarrassment flood through me, and I duck my head, my face flushing.

“Thank you!” He manages through his tongue-in-teeth laugh “Oh my god!”

He pulls out a Papyrus plushie, from Undertale. He mentioned how much he loved the character a few weeks ago while we were playing online and I thought he would really like it.

“You…you like it?” I manage to get out, and he looks at me in surprise

“Of course I like it! It’s great! It’s a really great gift. Thank you, Dan.”

“Yeah, of course. You’re welcome.” I blush even more at the praise and kick myself for letting my emotions color my face

“Actually, what makes it funnier is this is what I got you…” he reaches over to open a desk drawer behind him as I stare in surprise that he had actually gotten me anything. He pulls out another plushie and hands it to me. “Merry Christmas!”

It’s Tonberry, my favorite character from the Final Fantasy video game series.

I laugh aloud.

“This is brilliant! This is probably the single best present anyone’s ever given me in my entire life!” I exclaim as I take it from him, feeling the velvety green fur, running my fingers over the beady yellow eyes.

He chuckles “Well I couldn’t call it that, but I’m glad you like it.”

“No, you don’t understand. I _always_ get clothes, or random trinkets and things that everyone thinks I will like or need but I never ever get something that I _actually_ like, and I love this so.” I realize I’ve revealed a lot, and the smile on Phil’s face has faded, replaced by that look he gives whenever he’s concerned about me. “I mean, it’s nice. I mean, I know I’m lucky to get a Christmas at all.  I’m not complaining, I’m just…thank you.” I add, lamely.

His stare is piercing and awkward. His bright blue eyes are filled with sympathy, and the way he presses his lips together makes it seem like he’s resisting saying something.

“I’m glad you like it.” He echoes his earlier sentiment again, looking a little lost

“Yeah, thank you,” I reply, breaking his gaze

It’s too quiet, the silence extremely awkward.

“Dan?”

“Yeah?” I don’t look up, knowing he’s going to be giving me that sympathetic look again

“I’m really sorry.” His words are rushed, his voice soft. It’s taking all of my self-control not to reach out and take the hand that is resting on his knee.

“It’s not your fault.” I shrug, still avoiding his gaze.

Another pause.

“I didn’t mean to ruin this.” I gesture with Tonberry to Papyrus, before hazarding a glance at him.

“You didn’t.” He reassures, gently, before a smile slides across his face, his eyes finding something behind my head. “Snow!”

I turn in my chair to see that the window is now filled with a view of thick snowflakes as they tumble through the air.

“Come on!” Urges Phil, hopping up. He shoves Papyrus into his bag and then zips it up. I do the same with Tonberry, before following him out of his office, confused.

He hurries to the stairwell, and we climb up two more floors until we’re at the door for the roof.

“Phil-“

“It’s fine, I have a key.”

“But I’m-“

He’s already flung open the door, sending a gust of wind and snow into the corridor, and my face. I gasp with the cold, and he rushes outside.

“Dan, come on!” He urges, eyes alight with childish glee, smile wide.

He’s so beautiful.

His jet-black hair and black jeans contrast with the white of the snow and the concrete roof. His arms are out to the side, mouth open in a smile, tongue out to catch the snow. Snowflakes are stuck to his red and green plaid Christmas jumper, his hair, his eyelashes. His converse slide through the snow on the ground as he spins, laughter ringing out against the silence.

I can’t help but follow him out, hesitant, fearful of the height. He stops spinning long enough to wave me over to the middle of the roof.

“Phil, I don’t like heights,” I warn, glancing to the side

“It’s fine. You won’t fall. Just…come on. Try it.” He giggles before throwing his arms out. He pauses, waiting for me to do the same. I roll my eyes, putting my arms out, perpendicular to my body.

“Tongue!” he orders, and I stick mine out along with him.

Laughter erupts from my chest as we spin in the cold and snow, catching it all over, except in our mouths.

Suddenly my feet slip out from under me, skidding on the freshly fallen snow. I wave my arms about, trying desperately to stop my momentum as I pitch backward. Phil reaches out, grabbing my arm, closest to him, but then he’s skidding too. With his other hand, he grabs the collar of my jacket, tugging me forward until I’m standing straight up again, and we’re nearly chest to chest, and we’ve both stopped moving. I’m shorter than him by about five inches, so I’m staring at his mouth and chin—his lips are parted slightly, pale from the cold. Tilting my head up, my eyes meet, and we are frozen in surprise.

“Thanks.” I step back, and he releases his grip on my jacket “That was close.”

“Yeah of course.” He nods “Promised you wouldn’t fall, didn’t I?”

I nod, not really sure what else to say. Phil smiles, and I relax. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, so I follow his lead.

           The snow is falling even more thickly now, building up on Phil’s shoulders and head as he stands still. I can feel it melting into my hair, dripping uncomfortably down my back, and I shiver.

“Are you cold?”

“Freezing,” I admit, shaking some of the snow off myself

“Me too. We ought to get inside before one of us gets sick.”

We shuffle towards the door, careful not to slip, and step back inside. We grab our bags, where we left them in the stairwell and head back down the stairs.

“Your bus is soon, right?” He asks as we approach his office

“Yeah.” I nod. “I better go.”

“I’ll walk you.”

Silently, we make our way to the front door, and then back outside into the cold. I start towards my bus.

“Dan.” Phil tugs my backpack, stopping me before I can leave.

“Yeah?” I turn to look at him

His eyes are warm, and he’s wearing his serious-and-concerned face again. I almost want to tell him not to worry, but I bite my tongue.

“You…deserve more than Tonberry.” He whispers, blinking the snow out of his face.

I know he’s not referring to his gift, but Christmas presents themselves.

“Thanks, Phil,” I reply with a small smile, and he nods, turning away to start up the path towards the parking lot.

“I’ll see you at 8:00 sharp, right?”  I call, and he turns around

“Mario Kart?”

“Yep!” I grin, and he nods

He smirks “See you then. Get ready to lose.”

“Yeah, like that’s ever happened.”

“Hey, it has!”

“All or nothing doesn’t count!” I retort

“It does if you agree.” He teases back, and I smile

“Bye, Dan.”

“Bye.”

I turn around, and head to the bus, a smile stuck on my face.

Maybe winter break will be a little better this year.

 


	7. January 30th, Year 10

 “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Phil Happy birthday to you!” I sing quietly to myself as I type the message into the chat of the PUB Battle Royal game we’re playing. It’s just passed midnight, making it officially Sunday, January 30th—Phil’s 27thBirthday.

**AmazingPhil:** _Thanks Dan, but don’t distract me! I’m supposed to be watching out the window!_

**Danisnotonfire:** _Sorry, sorry, you’re right._  

I reply quickly, before making sure no one is coming in the door.

**Danisnotonfire:** _Footsteps_

I type as the sound of another player echoes in my headset

The door opens, and I fire, killing the other person quickly, before breathing a sigh of relief.

**AmazingPhil:** _Good shot. Only two more people!_

**Danisnotonfire:** _So, what are you doing for your birthday?_

**AmazingPhil:** _Nothing much. My family is all stuck up north because of the snow. Going out to dinner, then probably will Facetime them._

“With PJ.” I mutter to myself, a flash of jealously filling me.

**Danisnotonfire:** _That sounds nice. Are you going to the dog park this afternoon?_

He doesn’t respond, and my heartrate picks up, suddenly wondering if I’ve overstepped my boundaries. We spend most of our time conversing while playing video games, but sometimes we’ll meet up in person—either when I pick up Thor for his walk, or meeting at the dog park. I want to see him, and to give him his birthday present. Maybe he feels like it’s too much.

I’m drawn out of my internal spiral by the sound of Phil shooting someone from the window.

**AmazingPhil:** _Sorry, I noticed someone creeping around the barn. Yeah, I’ll be at the dog park around 3:00. Is that okay?_

I’m flooded with relief and type a response as quickly as I can

**Danisnotonfire:** _Yeah, that’s perfect!_

I send

**Danisnotonfire:** _I got you-_

**_GAME OVER_ **

“Goddamn fucking piece of fuck!” I hiss, making sure not to shout too loud in case I wake up anyone. I was so busy typing I didn’t hear the player approaching and now I’ve been shot.

A message pops up on my PC chat

**AmazingPhil:** _That was unfortunate. I’m sorry you were killed._

I lean forward, back towards the computer, and open the chat

**Danisnotonfire:** _Yeah. My own pride. Thought I could chat and watch out for another player at the same time._

**AmazingPhil:** _I shot him for you at least._

**Danisnotonfire:** _Thanks. Congrats on the win!_

**AmazingPhil:** _Wasn’t really worth it. I have to go, anyway. It’s getting late and I need some sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow to finish grading your essays. See you at the park?_

**Danisnotonfire:** _Okay, 1) You’re grading papers on your birthday? And 2) You haven’t finished them yet?  I’ll make a big_ _fuss in class on Monday if you don’t finish grading those. It’s been two weeks!_

**AmazingPhil:** _Hey! That’s not fair! I haven’t gotten any grading done because I’ve been playing PUB with you!_

**Danisnotonfire:** _True, True. Anyway, I have work to do too, so it’s fine. See you at the park!_

**AmazingPhil:** _Bye!_

**_AMAZINGPHIL HAS SIGNED OFF_ **

I tug my headphones off, and switch off my PC. Glancing at the clock, it’s not quite half twelve. We’ve been playing for five hours. He’s the only person in the world who would play 5 hours of PUB with me without complaining.

Shuffling away from my desk, I collapse into bed, smiling.

 

“Daniel, get up! You’re sleeping your day away!”

I scramble out of bed, not quite awake, rather reacting on instinct. My eyes open and I take in my mother’s disapproving frown. I hazard a glance at the clock.

“Mum, it’s not even 8:00! On a Sunday!”

She purses her lips in a frown “Is that attitude young man?”

“No Mum.” I mumble, looking down at my socks

“Did you sleep in your clothes from yesterday?” She looks me up and down quickly, face laced with disapproval

“Yeah, I must have.” I shrug and she sighs

“Get changed and do your homework!”  
“Mum, I worked all day yesterday.” I say, careful not to let any edge enter my voice “I already finished my homework and then some. And I’ve got work this afternoon.”

They still don’t know who I have been working nor what I do, and they don’t really care. All they know is I am out of the house for at least 8 hours a week and come home 20 pounds richer. I think Phil took pity on me—he comes with me on Thor’s walks at least half that time, meaning he could’ve just taken him himself. I appreciate the work too much to protest.

“Fine.” She sighs “What time?”  
“3:00. Probably until at least 4:30.”

“As long as you’re home for dinner by 6:00.” She nods, before closing the door behind her

I flop onto my bed, already exhausted. Rolling over, I stifle a groan into my pillow, before officially getting out of bed. Mum will be furious if she finds out I went back to sleep, even if I’ve done everything she’s asked.

I shower, taking extra care to straighten my hair afterwards, and get into in my ripped black jeans, sneakers, and worn grey jumper. I sneak down to the kitchen and grab some breakfast—a box of cereal—and then hide in my room for the rest of the morning, doing a little work, but mostly playing video games. Impatiently, I wait until 2:30.

“Bye Mum! Bye Dad!” I call into the house as I start towards the door, dressed in a puffy black winter coat and backpack—with Phil’s present inside.

“Daniel? Where are you going?” Dad’s voice echoes from within his study

“I’ve got work this afternoon.”  
“Good boy.”

Shutting the door behind me, I start down the street.

I’m already cold by the time I get to the park, but it’s worth it. Taking a seat on our usual bench, just outside the gated dog area of the park, I wait for the sight of the lanky man and energetic lab.

 

Four people have glanced at me strangely, as I have been sitting here for over half an hour. It’s 3:32 and Phil is late. He’s never late—not to class, the park, our online games or after school meetings. Fidgeting to keep warm, my breath billows in front of me before I raise my gloveless fingers to my lips, trying to warm them with the humidity of my breath. Sitting in the nearly-deserted park in the depths of a very cloudy winter alone with nothing other than a coat was probably not my best decision. My ears burn with cold, my nose is running and my fingers are numb.

“Dan.” 

I look up to see Phil, dressed in a blue winter jacket, with tan earmuffs and gloves. In one hand is a red leash. Thor is trotting alongside him, dressed in a warm jumper of his own.

Standing slowly, my legs stiff from the cold, I walk towards the pair.

“You waited.”

His voice is loud in the dead silence the cold seems to bring, his words filled with bewilderment, tinged with gratitude. 

 “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

My words are mostly surprise, colored by a flash of hurt.

“I…I don’t know. It’s freezing, and I’m almost forty minutes late.I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had given up waiting.” He replies, more sadness in his voice than what he said warrants

“I knew you’d come eventually.” I put on a smile, trying to lighten the mood. He still looks sad. “Figured Thor was being a pain about his jumper.”

Phil’s smile is forced “Yeah, he did cause some trouble today. Doesn’t seem to realize it’s for his own good. Do you even have anything besides that coat?” He suddenly frowns again, scanning me

“Er, no. I don’t. Didn’t think through this very much I think.” I attempt another joke but it falls flat.

“Come on. There’s a little place for coffee nearby. You must be freezing.” He urges

“I’m okay if you want to stay in the park.” I promise, quickly

“Please, you’re going to get hypothermia.” He frets and I give in

“Okay.”

We walk solemnly together, Phil leading ever so slightly, as he knows where we’re going. I stare at the dead leaves scraping across the pavement in the wind just ahead of us and don’t say anything, waiting for him to speak. He doesn’t.

We walk into the coffee shop, having tied Thor up outside, his head contentedly on his paws. There’s a bored looking barista, probably a little younger than Phil, with short red hair and a neck tattoo. The only other people in the shop is an older couple, a blonde in an oversized knit grey sweater, and brunette with a green cardigan and tan skirt, sharing the newspaper and sipping their drinks.

“What do you want?” Phil finally speaks as we drape our coats on two chairs in the back corner of the shop. I dig through my jacket quickly and pull out my wallet.

“I’ve got it. It’s your birthday, this is my treat!” 

“Dan, you don’t have to-“  
“Please, I want to!” I interrupt “What do you want?”

A smile flashes across his face.

“Caramel Macchiato.”

“Coming right up!” I grin, before walking up to the counter.

 

A few minutes later, I return to our table and place our hot coffees down, before sliding into my chair.

“Thank you.” Phil tugs his towards him, wrapping his long fingers around the cup. I do the same, letting the warmth seep into my hands.

After a few more moments of silence, I can’t help myself.

“What’s the matter, Phil?”  
He looks up at me in surprise, blue eyes wide, before his expression settles into resignation.

“PJ.” He sighs

I take a sip of my drink, waiting for him to continue.  

“I haven’t told him about…” he adds, quickly, before trailing off, but I can fill in the blank.

He takes a deep breath before continuing “I mean, this is very complicated and you’ve been pretty…accepting of the mess this is for, well, both of us. Anyway, today I told PJ I was going to the park and he also asked if something was bothering me. He said I’ve been evasive for a couple months, playing video games all night, walking in the park a lot, which he had told me he didn’t mind, especially when he was at work. He’s training to be a doctor so he’s not around a lot of the time…but I think he felt a little neglected that I’ve been busy during a lot of the time he has been home and I’ve been…well, with you.”

He pauses, shifting uncomfortably, and I can feel his eyes on me, trying to gage my reaction to all of this. I keep my face neutral, and look up at him. He breaks my gaze, and continues speaking.

“I really don’t know what to do, Dan.” His voice is sad “and I can’t talk to anyone about this. I mean…you’re my student. You’re _14_ for god’s sake. I am almost twice your age and I’m sure I’m just listing all of the things that you already know. I know but…”

He’s dancing around what he wants to say now. That we can’t ever be proper soulmates. That he loves PJ and wants to stay with him. That everything about us is illegal for the next four years, and impossible beyond that.

“I never expected us to be anything more than friends, Phil.” I lie, looking up at him again, knowing that this is what he needs to hear. I’ve never seen anyone with an expression so grateful, and guilty and yet, relieved, at the same time.

“Really?” He whispers, searching my face, my eyes, for any hint of dishonesty

 “I…I get it. I’m a kid. You’ve got a husband. I’m…I’ve never had a best friend, Phil. People always seem to like their other friends more than me. My family doesn’t really understand what I like and they write it off as laziness or hormones but…you just _get_ me, Phil. You’re my perfect match and I wouldn’t give that up for anything. So, I don’t mind being just friends, even though it’s unusual for soulmates.”

He just continues to stare at me, so much emotion pooling in his beautiful eyes. Feeling warm under such an intense gaze, I change the topic.

“Plus, it’s your birthday. You’re supposed to be having fun—celebrating! Partying!”

I smile at him and my heart soars as he finally smiles back at me, a genuine smile.  
“Do I _look_ like the partying type to you?”

“No, but still. You could!”

We laugh for a moment, and I bend down to pull Phil’s present from my bag.  
“Here. Happy birthday, Phil.” I hand him the box, wrapped in white wrapping paper, with bursts of colored confetti all over it.

“You didn’t have to get me anything!” He gasps, taking it from me  
“Of course I was going to get you something, you spork! Open it!”

Painfully slowly, he unwraps it and pulls out the box for a “Cuphead” coffee mug.

“Is this Cuphead?” He asks excitedly, his voice going higher in pitch

“Yeah, he’s one of your childhood favorites, isn’t he?”  
“Oh my god, this is adorable!” He laughs, turning it around in his hands, examining the box.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you, Dan!” He looks at me again, eyes bright with excitement, smile wide, cheeks flushed.

I feel my heart pound in my chest as I take in his joy. He’s so beautiful, so kind and so wonderful…but for now, it’s better to just be friends.

After all, I have four years to figure out what, if anything, comes next.

 

 


	8. February 14, Year 10

**_Chapter 7: February 14 th_ **

I really shouldn’t be doing this.

I know that, but I can’t help it: I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic, and it is Valentine’s day. It’s also a Saturday and, for nearly four hours, I have been sitting on a park bench waiting for Phil to walk Thor. Luckily, it’s a sunny and relatively warm for mid-February, so I’m not freezing. The park is filled with people enjoying the sunshine, some walking their dogs, others jogging or biking, and some just wandering around. I’ve been reading _The Catcher in the Rye_. I adore the book, and somehow, I find myself relating to Holden quite a bit—it seems everyone in this world except Phil is a bit of a “phony”. I know serial killers or whatever seem to love this book, but I just find it refreshing, and I don’t plan on murdering anyone anytime soon.

I glance at my watch again, stifling a yawn. It’s not even noon, but I woke up at 6:00 am this morning to make sure I could get out of the house before my parents woke up. I went to the coffee shop and bought myself some breakfast before picking up the flowers I had ordered. Then I’ve been sitting on this bench for over four hours reading about Holden and his take on the world.

It took me ages to decide on the right floral arrangement. Roses seemed too romantic, and we’re supposed to only be friends. Sunflowers are apparently one of the “friendship” flowers, but they’re too tall and furry to be attractive. I felt like the “mixed bouquet” seemed too much like a “Get-well-soon” card, the carnations were more funeral than valentine, and so finally I settled on some sweet-smelling Chrysanthemums. The puffy petals are painfully bright in color, as I picked the ones I thought Phil would like—pale pink, yellow, orange, and white. They’re wrapped in cellophane and paper, and have been sitting beside me on the bench, waiting with me.

“Dan?”

My neck snaps up from my book and I make eye contact with Phil. He looks particularly adorable today, his hair slightly mussed, cheeks pink with cold but his eyes are wide and almost scared. I realize why moments later. PJ is standing beside him. He’s smiling at me, if a little confused, and uses one hand to shift his mop of unruly brown hair out of his blue eyes.

“Dan” Phil starts again, “What are you doing here?” he forces a laugh and I manage to speak

“Hi, er, Mr. Lester.” I place my book beside me and stand up, somewhat formally. “Funny running into you here.”

“Is this one of your students, babe?” PJ asks Phil, and I nearly choke at the pet name, but force a smile as Phil answers  
“Yeah he is.”  
“I’m PJ, er, Dr. Liguori. I’m Mr. Lester’s husband. It’s nice to meet you.” PJ extends his free hand to shake and I do so, almost robotically.

Suddenly, I am grateful the cold weather forced me to wear a coat—my mark is hidden for now. Glancing down, I see that despite the cold, PJ’s sleeves reveal enough of his wrists that he has no claim mark. Makeup again. 

“Good to meet you.” I respectfully parrot

A million questions are flooding my mind. Why isn’t PJ working— he usually works on Saturdays. Why didn’t PJ take Phil’s last name, or vice versa? How the hell do I explain the fucking flowers?

“I see you’re getting your homework done.” Phil’s smile is like plastic, and it doesn’t reach his pretty blue eyes, which remain somewhat panicked. He gestures towards _the Catcher in the Rye,_ sitting on the bench next to the bouquet.

“Yeah, yeah I am. I was just trying to kill time-“ I cut off my own sentence realizing I am backing myself into a corner.

“Were you waiting for someone? We didn’t mean to intrude.” PJ smiles, and it’s hard to dislike him. He is polite and seems genuinely kind and interested. However, he isn’t helping my situation.

“Er, yeah.” I don’t meet Phil’s gaze, which I can feel burning into me “My, uh...girlfriend. Louise." I wince at the fact  Phil will obviously see through my lie, but it's too late now. "Figured I should do something for her that’s nice…because it’s valentine’s and all.” I continue to babble, making everything worse “I mean, I care about her a lot but I don’t know, I’ve been here ages and-.”

“How long have you been out here?” Phil’s voice is laced with concern, but when I glance at his face, it’s filled with guilt.

“Uh, four-ish hours?” I shrug “She’s late.”

PJ laughs at that, obviously missing the tension between Phil and I.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, Phil is always late for everything too.”

“Oi, that’s not fair!” Whines Phil and PJ smirks

I stare at PJ in surprise. Phil has never been late for anything, ever, with the exception of on his birthday. It hadn’t ever occurred to me until now, that punctuality was something Phil did just for me.

“Well he’s never been late to class so-“ I start to defend Phil, when PJ mock gasps

“You care about your students more than me?” he teases but from the look on Phil’s face he almost didn’t get the joke.

The laugh that follows Phil’s realization is a pained one and even PJ is starting to note the increasing awkwardness.

“I probably should get back to waiting for, er, her.” I gesture towards the bench.

“Yeah, and we better be off. Valentine’s lunch because PJ has to work tonight.” Phil says and PJ nods, lacing his fingers between Phil’s.

I clench my jaw and sit down “Bye!”

“Bye!” PJ says loudly, and Phil uses his free hand to wave.

I watch as they continue on, without looking back. They seem happy, their steps light.

Something sticky and dark and miserable settles in my stomach. As soon as they’ve turned the corner, I stand and gather my things. I slide on my headphones as I hurry out of the park, and make sure to toss the bouquet into the trash at the entrance gate.

_When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city to see a marching band…._

“Dan! Dan! _Dan!_ ”

Ripping off my headphones, I turn to see Adrian sitting at the kitchen counter. I didn’t even notice he was there when I slammed the door and stomped towards the stairs.

“Yes?” It’s hard to keep the irritation out of my voice, but there’s something in his face that looks so…innocent? That I can’t help but soften my tone slightly “What do you need?”

He fidgets in his seat “Can you help me?” He gestures to the papers scattered about the table in front of him a little hopelessly. “I just…I don’t get it. Dad is always saying how it’s not that hard and I’m a smart kid and I’m just not working hard enough but I am…I really am trying Dan.”

“Hey, calm down. It’s going to be okay. Where are Mum and Dad anyway?” I soothe, Phil momentarily forgotten, as I head over to the table and take a seat beside him. Adrian can be annoying, as any ten-year-old would be, but the rare moments he does want to be around me are not to be ignored—even if I am in a rotten mood. I am not the only one who has to survive our parents. 

“Dunno. Out at some event or something.” He pouts as I sift through the papers—mostly math problems—before finding a clean sheet and a pencil.

“Alright, Adrian. What’s the problem?”

 

We worked for nearly an hour, as I carefully explained ratio and percent to him. He worked hard, to his credit, and it wasn’t long before he was solving the problems quickly and correctly.

“See, kiddo. You’ve got it.”

He just nods, eyes focused on the paper. Carefully, I nudge him with my shoulder.

“Don’t let Mum and Dad get to you. You’re a smart kid. You work hard. They just….” I sigh “They like to push. But you just do your best. That’s all they should ask of you. And you shouldn’t have to do it alone. There’s no shame in asking for help.”  

He looks up at me, his brown eyes warm “Thanks, Dan.”

I nod, before standing up and heading up the stairs. Moments like that are best left before we end up having an argument.

 

As soon as I make it to my room, I collapse into my desk chair and turn on my computer. Even helping Adrian couldn’t remove the humiliation of today. It’s better to just focus on something else. Pulling up Undertale, I begin to play.

“Come on, come on….” I grumble, trying to remain alive with basically no HP. With a loud ping, a message pops up on my dashboard, and the momentary distraction is just long enough to kill me. Slamming my hands down on the desk, I watch as the _GAME OVER_ floats across the screen again.

“God damn fucking-“ I start, but freeze, remembering everyone in the house is probably asleep. Glancing at the clock, it blinks back 11:07. Clicking out of the Undertale page, I go to see who messaged me.

**AmazingPhil:** _Hey. Do you want to play League of Legends?_

I stare in surprise, and then another message pops up

**AmazingPhil:** _If not it’s fine_

Another ping

**AmazingPhil:** _Just wanted to ask_

I know he can see that I’m online. My mouse hovers over the exit key, and part of me wants to just quit the whole thing, be done, go to bed and not have to deal with the embaressment of today until at least Monday. But I can’t, of course. That just isn’t fair. What happened today was my fault—we had both agreed to just be friends and I had to go and mess it up. It’s my responsibility to deal with it.

**Danisnotonfire:** _Hey! Yeah, I’ll play if you want to._

I can see that Phil is typing, but I can’t bring myself to bring up what happened today.

**Danisnotonfire:** _So how was your afternoon?_

The pause waiting for his response is nearly unbearable. I start biting my nails, fidgeting in my chair, staring at the little “typing” icon. His response pops up with a little ping, and I dive closer to read it.

**AmazingPhil:** _It was good! Though Thor is a little sick now—he got into a box of the little sugar heart candies and is now feeling the effects. The two of us are having a calm night of tea and TV. I just finished watching a few episodes of Fullmetal Alchemist when I saw you were online and thought you might want to play._

I let out a long breath, not realizing I was holding it at all. He doesn’t hate me. I reread the email and a grin spreads across my face. I type my response quickly.

**Danisnotonfire:** _Wait you watch Anime?_   
**AmazingPhil:** _Yeah! PJ doesn’t really like it so I tend to watch it alone. Do you watch Anime?  
_ **Danisnotonfire:** _I love it! My favorites are Death Note, Fullmetal Alchemist and Sword Art Online! I watch it by myself too—no one else I know likes it!_

**AmazingPhil:** _I have never seen Sword Art Online but I love the other two as well!  
_ **Danisnotonfire:** _How could you not have seen Sword Art Online?!?!?!_

**AmazingPhil:** _Hey don’t yell at me! I couldn’t find the disks anywhere!_  
**Danisnotonfire:** _That settles it. I’ll bring them in for you on Monday_

**AmazingPhil:** _Haha okay, thanks._

**Danisnotonfire:** _Anyway, the game? Do you still want to play?_  
**AmazingPhil:** _Yeah, of course._

I am about to quit the chat and open the game when another message pops up

**AmazingPhil:** _By the way, Dan, thank you._

**Danisnotonfire:** _Uh, for what?_  
**AmazingPhil:** _Just…thank you._

I stare at the screen for a moment, trying to figure out what he’s thanking me for, when it suddenly occurs to me.

The flowers.

Could he possibly be thanking me for the flowers? I’m too afraid to ask, but I can’t help the warmth that floods through me.

**Danisnotonfire:** _You’re welcome._


	9. March 6th, Year 10

My leg is shaking uncontrollably.

The clock seems to be counting through mud and even though I’m in English—my favorite—I can’t help but hope the day would just end.

“You’re shaking like a leaf. Are you alright?” Whispers Louise as she leans towards me, placing a hand on my bouncing knee to steady it.

“Yeah, just tired. I want to go home.” I lie, forcing a small smile

 “There’s only a few minutes left.” She reassures, nodding sympathetically “Hang in there!”

Looking back at Phil, I see that he’s stopped class, having noticed Louise and my side conversation.

“Care to share?” He raises an eyebrow, and the entire class turns to stare. I blush.

“Sorry.” Mumbles Louise, her own cheeks pink

Phil just shakes his head “Come on guys there’s only ten minutes left.”

When the bell finally rings, everyone scrambles to collect their bags and leave class.

“Dan, can I see you quickly?” Phil asks, and I fight a groan, remaining behind as the classroom empties

“Are you okay?” he’s wearing his concerned-about-Dan face, which I have come to recognize very quickly.

“Fine.” I shrug, breaking his gaze “Just tired.”

“Liar.” His voice is soft but firm, and I look up at him in surprise. A small smirk finds its way onto his face.

“Do you think I don’t know when you lie? It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it, but don’t lie.”

“How can you tell?” I demand, feeling embarrassed by this uncontrollable vulnerability

“If I told you what your tell is, you would stop!” He smiles before he turns to wipe off the board “Will you be coming to extra help?”

“Er, no. Not tonight I…” I swallow hard “I actually have to go rehearse.”

“Rehearse?” Phil turns around, curious “For what?”

I look at the ground, before finally whispering “Piano.”

“You play the piano?” He exclaims, and my head snaps up

“Oi, don’t shout that! If anyone here found out, I’d be bullied, humiliated-“

“Hey, hey calm down.” Phil quickly amends, walking over to me “I didn’t mean to upset you. I love the piano, and I didn’t know you played.”

“Yeah. I really love it.” I admit “My parents think it’s sort of…stupid. But they never really care about what I do as long as I’m busy. So, I take lessons, occasionally. Mostly just play by myself. But tonight, I’ve got a show. It’s nothing big—just a little Italian restaurant about an hour outside of town. Called Luigi’s Family Restaurant. They’ve got an outdoor piano or something and want me to play for their Thursday night customers. I start at 8:00 so I was going to go rehearse at home for a bit before taking the bus over.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” Phil smiles “I’m glad you’re getting to play for an audience. But why are you taking the bus, couldn’t one of your…” the question dies in his throat, and I can practically hear him realizing the answer.

My parents won’t drive me because they’re not coming—they do not care. I watch as the weight of that lands on his face and it sort of crumples slightly for a moment. Part of me wants to reach out and smooth it out, wipe all of the sorrow and worry off his face.

 “I’m sorry.” He whispers, and I shrug

“It’s not your fault. Plus, I don’t really mind. Sometimes it’s nice to have a little anonymity.” He just stares at me, so I continue, somewhat uncomfortable, “Anyway, I have to get going. I really want at least an hour of practice before I leave.” I awkwardly shuffle towards the door

“Good luck, Dan, I am sure you’ll be amazing.”

I smile slightly at that “Thanks. I hope so.”

 

I’m barely through the front door when I hear Mum’s shrill voice.

“Daniel!”

“Yes, Mum?”

“Can you watch Adrian tonight? Your father and I have a work dinner we need to go to.” She rounds the corner of the room.

She’s dressed in her lavender robe, her brown hair done up in curls gracefully pinned here and there across her head. The beginnings of her make up cover her face, and she’s preoccupied with her phone in one hand and a pair of black heels in the other.

“Er, Mum I can’t babysit Adrian tonight. I’ve got that Piano concert I told you about. I’m obligated to go.” I explain as politely as possible

She lets out a sigh, finally looking up at me “Well what are your father and I going to do, then, Daniel? Just whip up a babysitter out of thin air? Your brother takes priority over that little piano thing.”

“But Mum, he’s 11. He can stay home alone for a little bit-“

“Daniel you can’t just shun your responsibilities!” 

“Mum, I’m sure Ruby is around. I saw her just the other day in the park.” I suggest, desperately.

Ruby is a Uni student who used to babysit me before she left, but when we spoke earlier this week, she mentioned she was on spring break.

“Hmm. I’ll give Ruby a call. You really should have told me about this little…event…earlier, Daniel.” She frowns before hurrying away.

I want to yell after her that I had told her, at dinner nearly two months ago, and again last week, but to argue is futile, and would cut into the time I really do need to rehearse.

Instead, I head to my room and sit down at my keyboard. Pulling on the headphones, I turn it on and close my eyes, my fingers finding the right keys with ease. 

 

“Daniel!”

I quickly tug the headphones off and see Mum in the doorway, dressed in a black dress, covered in sparkles, with a long silver necklace my Dad got her for Christmas around her neck. She looks really pretty.

“Yes, Mum? You look really nice, by the way.”

“Yes, thank you, dear.” She dismisses the compliment quickly, already focused on her phone “I called Ruby, and she can come. Just be home before midnight, okay? Your father and I will be home later. You’re lucky Ruby could come.”

“Got it, Mum. By midnight. And I know.” I nod at her

“Good.” She shuts the door behind her, and I go back to practicing.

 

I play for too long, and it’s only when my phone alarm goes off at 6:00 do I realize I am going to be late.

Hopping up, I hurry to my closet and pull out the clothes I had designated for this performance. It isn’t much, just a white collared shirt like I might wear to church, a black tie, a pair of black converse and skinny black jeans—without rips.

It takes me fifteen minutes, two youtube videos, and one Wikihow article for me to tie my tie correctly. I throw on some deodorant, fix my hair, and then pull on a thin coat and head towards the front door.

“Bye, Dan!” Ruby smiles, her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, her hazel eyes happy as she stands in the kitchen, making Adrian dinner.

“Bye!”

I run all the way to the bus stop and manage to make it on time, squeezing past the other people to settle into a seat. I don’t put in my headphones—I spend the whole hour staring out the window at the fluorescent glow of the houses in the dark, thinking of the songs I will play, fingers twitching as they rest on my thighs.

The bus arrives seven minutes later than planned, but I am still nearly 15 minutes early.

The manager, Frankie, greets me with a bright smile and a pat on the back that’s just a little too hard. He’s a big man in every way, but his face radiates a sincere kindness and welcoming. I listen to him go on about how excited he is as he hands me a bottle of water and leads me to the piano.

In the back of the restaurant is a patio. The piano sits at the center of the courtyard, an audience of tables set up in a semi-circle around it. I make my way towards the instrument, marveling at its beauty.

It’s a grand piano, made of a glossy chestnut brown wood, intricate carvings decorating the legs, sides and music stand, the keys a contrastingly beautiful white. It is propped open, revealing its tender golden strings, and everything about it is perfect. I almost don’t want to touch it. 

Some of the patrons, dining outside on circular tables covered in white table cloths have noticed my arrival and intention, their eyes trained on the skinny teen in black, heading towards the piano.

I sit down on the bench, carefully adjust it, before allowing my fingers to rest lightly upon the ivory keys. I look up and marvel at how different it is to play under the blossoming stars, in the fresh air. There’s a candle on the piano, accompanied by a book light for sheet music—not that I have any.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and begin to play. My fingers glide across the keys, each note erupting from the piano with ease. As the song swells, I move faster, hands flying from the octave to octave, each note perfectly tapped, played, painted into the air.

   

It’s only once I’ve finished the seventh song to I stop to open my eyes, to pause, to take a deep breath. I’m sweating, even in the cool air. I can feel my hair plastering to my forehead, my collared shirt sticking to my arms and ribs.

The crowd claps and I grab the water bottle Frankie gave me out from under the bench and take a few sips. Twisting the cap back in place, I go to place it back under my seat. As I do, I glance around my audience. At a table off to the side, nearly out of my view, is a young man with raven black hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. He’s in a maroon collared shirt and is grinning from ear to ear. We make eye contact as I stare in surprise, and he waves slightly, mouthing ‘hello.’

    I smile at him, before turning back to the keys, and placing my hands on them again. It feels different now. There’s someone to play for. I begin again.

 

An hour later, I’ve finally finished. I played for 34 minutes over my slot, but nobody complained, and Frankie didn’t stop me. I bow to the applause of the guests, before heading over to Phil’s table.

“You were wonderful.” Everything about his face is smiling “Absolutely brilliant. I can’t believe I never knew you played—  you are so good.”

“I’m really not.” I shrug “It’s just a hobby.”

“Dan.” He says, seriously “You’re good. Really, really talented.”

 “Thanks, Phil.” I smile, blushing slightly, before glancing at the empty seat next to him “May I sit?”

“Yeah, of course. Have you had anything to eat?”

“Er, no not since lunch.”

“Oh my god, you must be starving!” he gasps “Hold on, we’ll order you something.”

“You really don’t have to-“

“I want to.” He says, firmly, so I relent. The waiter comes over, and I order pizza and a diet coke.

“I got you these.” Phil pulls a small bouquet of Chrysanthemums out from under the table, placing them in front of me. They seem to be almost the opposite of the ones I got Phil—these are navy blue, maroon and royal purple. Still stunningly beautiful, yet much more my color scheme.

It’s hard to fight the rush of emotion as I stare at the flowers. My eyes water unwillingly as I reach out and take the bouquet, one hand reaching in to brush my fingers along the velvety petals. Phil is here, an hour outside of town to support me, and he even brought me flowers, but my own family couldn’t be bothered to show up. 

“Thank you.” I manage to choke out, afraid to look at him for fear I will start crying. “And thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” He replies, softly, genuinely, and at that, two tears drip down my face, followed by two more.

“Dan.” He’s whispering now, as I sniffle, unwilling to even acknowledge the tears dripping down my face by wiping them away. “Dan, it’s okay.” He reaches out, placing his hand on my shoulder. I can feel each of his fingers through my jacket and shirt, the heat and pressure they give as he reassures me. “Please don’t cry.”

“Sorry,” I mumble

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” He replies and part of me breaks a little bit more at that because he completely understands.

More tears start streaming down my cheeks, dripping onto the petals of the flowers in my lap. He reaches across me with his free hand and pulls me towards him slightly, hugging me over the armrests of our chairs. I bury my face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent, taking comfort in his warmth. This is the closest we have ever been, and part of me is relishing the feeling, as the other buries itself deeper in sorrow.

“I’m proud of you.” He whispers, softly, yet his voice is firm. “and I am here for you.”

I nod against his neck, not willing to let him out of my grasp just yet, and he lets me, just holding on until I am ready to pull away.

When I finally do let go, I wipe away my tears with my sleeve and put on a small smile. Phil smiles back.

We eat dinner together, and then he drives me home. We talk about video games, school tomorrow, and my piano. We don’t talk about what happened after I finished playing. We don’t really need to. We say goodnight around 11:40, and I watch as he drives away, before sneaking into the house, the chrysanthemums still clutched in my hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> Sorry it took a little longer than usual to post the next chapter! I promise another one will be coming shortly (probably by the end of the week!)  
> Have a wonderful day!
> 
> Love Always,   
> Tempest Wolfe


	10. April 11th, Year 10

“Daniel you’re going to be late!” Mum shouts, and I can hear her stomping up the stairs

I don’t move. Completely motionless in bed, I only stare at the wall. She throws the door to my room open, and I don’t turn to look at her. I can already picture her face full of disappointment—the way she always looks at her failure of a son. The one too lazy, too stupid, too worthless to require more than a few moments of her time.

 “Daniel! Get up! The bus will be here in five minutes!” Her voice is shrill, and she rips the covers away from me. “For God’s sake Daniel, are we really going to do this again?”

Of course, we are, because I am useless. I am a worthless piece of shit, who seems to detriment this family in every way.

I drag my eyes from the wall to look at her, and across her face was the very expression I was expecting. Fury, exasperation, disappointment.

“Get your fucking ass out of bed, Daniel or I swear to God-“

A little effort and I have rolled off the bed, landing unceremoniously on the floor with a thump.

Although some part of me registers the fact that this should hurt, as I’ve whacked my chin, knees, and ribs onto the floor, I feel nothing.

“Daniel! Get up!”

 Slowly, so, so, slowly, I heave myself to my feet and keep my eyes on the floor. As Mum continues to yell, I just block it out, her words part of the background noise of my mind. I’m watching as I get dressed, shove papers and books into my bag and stumble down the steps, out the door, and onto the bus.

 

I am a robot, a ghost. I feel nothing, want nothing, and barely manage to glide from class to class, hearing nothing at all.

“Dan!”

I am snapped out of my trace by a slight shove, but I am unprepared for the external force and stumble backward, crashing into lockers behind me.

“What the fuck, Louise?” I speak for the first time today, my words snarled at her, though no internal anger accompanies my tone. Her eyes are wide.

“Sorry, Dan I didn’t mean—I didn’t realize you’d fall over so quickly.”

“Well, you should have fucking thought.” I snap back at her, my voice detached from me

She looks hurt, and embarrassed, and slowly I realize I’ve been shouting at her in the middle of the hallway. I couldn’t care less. I should feel sorry, but I’m a piece of shit person and a piece of shit friend.

“What is going on?”

Phil has interrupted, standing somewhat between a shocked-silent Louise, and me. His blue eyes are focused on me, and his face is a mask of concern. Of course, he would be concerned. He’s a genuine, kind and thoughtful person, and I shouldn’t be his fucking responsibility. He should be humiliated to have a soulmate like me.

“Nothing,” I mutter, and he stares fiercely at me. He swings his head to look at Louise. She flashes a worried glance at me, before murmuring

 “Nothing.”

“Dan, my office. Now.” Orders Phil

I follow him down the hall, numb, and into his office, where he shuts the door behind us.

“What is going on? You and Louise are friends? I noticed you seemed a little spaced out earlier today-“

“I'm fine,” I mumble, not looking at him.

“Dan, please.” There’s something so plaintive in his voice, I almost feel bad for him. “Dan.”

I stare at the floor in silence, numb. I should say something to make Phil feel better, but I’m so lazy, so selfish that I can’t bring myself to.

 “You’re having one of your bad days, aren’t you?” He’s almost whispering now, and he shifts his chair so his knees—in pastel blue pants—are nearly touching mine. “It’s okay, you know. To have bad days, but…” He takes a deep breath “I think it’s more than that.” Taking my silence as an invitation, he continues “Dan…it’s not normal to feel like that all the time. This is the fifth time in two months. I know you say it doesn’t last long, and I know that you don’t think it’s a big deal, but I do.”

He’s right. I’ve told him about my bad days before, usually after the fact. Sometimes it’s easier for me to hide the bad days than to deal with them when I have them. Everyone has bad days. I can’t even remember how many years I’ve had these bad days, though they have been getting more frequent. However, I’ve told Phil about them less and less as it’s starting to get annoying that Phil is so overbearing. I’m not his responsibility.

“Dan, can you please look at me?”

I lift my head and steel myself for the overwhelming emotion on his face, pooling in his eyes.

“You’re…it matters a lot to me that you take care of yourself. That you know what’s going on. I’ve been doing some research, and I think you have depression.”

A fake laugh, a jarring sound, erupts from my chest “Oh, I have depression, do I? What else do I need to fulfill the sad, teenage boy pack? Daddy issues? Check. Black clothes? Check. Depression? Check-“

“Dan. I’m serious. It’s important you take mental health seriously.”  Phil interrupts, looking stricken

“Fuck’s sake, Phil.” I burst out, “There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just having a bad day. Am I not allowed to have a bad day, now? Are you going to make sure I’m a happy fucking angel of sunshine every goddamn day or-“

 “Don’t do that Dan.“ Phil interrupts me, his voice dancing on the edge of condescending “You know something is wrong. You know this isn’t normal. But you don’t want to deal with-“

“Isn’t normal?” I retort “Now that’s what you want, for me to be normal? Fuck you.” With that, I stand, sling my bag over my shoulder and barge out of his office.

Part of me knows I should be feeling something now. I should be angry, or guilty, or hurt or sad—just something. But I don’t. Because I am a horrible, disgusting human being.

 

The rest of the school day passes uneventfully, until English—last period. I don’t speak at all, hardly even follow Phil’s directions, and refuse to look at Louise, until the bell rings. Then, I move the fastest I have all day, grabbing my stuff off the table and my backpack and making a dash for the door, when Phil’s voice stops me.

“Dan, can I talk to you for a moment?”

I stand in sullen silence as the class empties, and as soon as everyone is gone, I storm over to Phil

“You don’t get to fucking pull the teacher card on me, got it?” I hiss, wary of the open door, standing less than a foot from him, my neck craned slightly so I can look him in the eye. He looks surprised, but I continue, “You don’t get to use that power over our friendship. We had a fight, and you don’t get to repair it because you’re making me stay late because you’re my fucking teacher. So, go ahead. Give me a goddamn detention, but I am leaving.” I turn and start to make another exit.

“You’re supposed to walk Thor tonight.”

His voice is neutral and was absolutely not what I was expecting after what I had said. I stop, halfway out the door, and turn around.

“What?”

“You’re supposed to walk Thor tonight.” He repeats, completely calm “Do you want a ride again?”

I just stare. The only thing I want to do is go home and collapse in bed and not move for the rest of the month. The last thing I want to do is walk Phil’s fucking dog.

“What?” I repeat again, walking back into the classroom

A small smile forms on Phil’s face “Are we stuck in a time loop?” he teases “I am not going to repeat myself. If you are coming, I’ll be in the parking lot in 15 minutes. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, he walks right past me and out of the room.

I stare at the empty doorway for a few moments.

What the fuck?

The contrast of Phil’s actions with everything that has happened today is jarring. Part of me thinks I should feel irritated, but I can’t bring myself to muster the energy for the emotion.

I wait in the classroom for 13 minutes, both out of spite and confliction. Then I run all the way through the school to the parking lot. Phil is leaning against his blue car reading a book, calmly, and doesn’t notice me. He checks his watch, before glancing up. The slightest smirk flashes across his face, perhaps in satisfaction, before it’s gone and is replaced by his neutral look again.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t acknowledge the choice I made. He merely marks his page, shuts his book and gets into the car. I get into the passenger side and close the door.

The ride to his house is awkward. We’re completely silent—a rarity for the two of us. I know I should say something, but I can’t bring myself too. Instead, I’m just sat, thinking, watching the scenery race by for the half hour trip.

 

Depression. I know all the symptoms, the treatment options, all the stupid shit we learned when we went to a mental health seminar earlier this year. It was a fat, middle-aged man with a slide show—"see here?" he had said, "These are the signs of depression, of anxiety, of anorexia." Everyone laughed at the kid who looked sad, everyone shrugged at the kid who couldn’t breathe in a crowded market. But no one joked about the kid whose ribs were seen through their skin, whose body was skin on bone. They didn’t laugh because they could see it. They could look and watch exactly what that person’s mind had done to them. With the first two, it wasn’t so easy to see, but the diseases were just as real. Or at least, that’s what the guy told us.

I glance at Phil, who is focused on driving, not even glancing at me. I cross and uncross my arms, shift around in my seat, and generally don’t hold still. I feel trapped, my own nagging self-doubt forcing me to turn over each aspect of Phil and my fight and wonder if maybe—just maybe—he’s right.

But I’m scared. That’s the only thing I feel right now, the only feeling seeping through the numbness that I’ve spent most of the day wrapped in. Fear. So maybe I do have depression. Perhaps I am truly mentally ill. I’ll need help. Maybe a therapist, perhaps medication—that’s what they said at the presentation. But no one is going to believe me. I'm just selfish, overdramatic, ridiculous, looking for attention. I have a wonderful life! A perfect house, an ideal family, I go to a great school, I have friends. I can’t be depressed. Why would I be? And my parents…I can’t add another of my burdens onto my parents. I am an inconvenience enough, and they don’t even believe that depression is real. 

I look at Phil again. He continues staring straight ahead at the road.

But Phil believes it. He’s the one forcing me to sit here, trapped in his car on the way to walk his fucking dog just so I have time to think about this. Not to shove it away, in denial, like I did at the presentation like I have done for ages.

 

He parks, we get out, and he unlocks his front door. Thor leaps out of the doorway and onto Phil, and then me, tongue lolling and tail wagging happily.

“Here.” Phil hands me Thor’s leash, and I clip it onto his collar.

“Thanks,” I mutter back. He stands on one side of his doorway, and I the other.

“I don’t want to be like this anymore.” I finally admit to him, staring at the ground in front of his black converse. For a few tense seconds, he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t want to be burdened by me. I shouldn’t have said anything. I wait in the growing silence, slowly panicking before he takes a deep breath.

“Okay. Would you like some help?”

 I look up at him. His voice is the same neutral it has been, but his face reads both relief and pride through the cracks in his poker face. He waits, patiently, for my response.

“Yeah.” I nod, and he smiles.

“Good. Can I walk with you?”

I nod, and we start down the street, again in silence. Thor seems unaffected by the mood, and he trots happily alongside us. I watch as he sniffs along a couple hedges, a lamppost, and a mailbox. When we finally arrive at the park, Thor's straining on his collar, tugging me towards the fenced-in area with all the other dogs. I let him drag us there, and while he runs around with the other dogs, Phil and I sit on the bench just inside the chain link fence to watch him.

“Do you really think I’m depressed?” I finally ask

“Yes. I do. But you need a professional diagnosis and even if, by chance, you’re not…I think some help from a therapist or counselor or something might help too. You need someone you trust, who is trained to give you advice.”

I nod, taking a deep breath. “but my parents don’t believe in mental illnesses. Told me so a hundred times. It's always "just get more sleep, work out more, eat better", you know? They’re not going to just drop money on some random therapist because I’ve asked them to.”

“Oh.” His voice is quiet, and I look over to see he’s biting his lip slightly, brows furrowed, deep in thought, staring out at the park. “Well, there’s the school counselor. I’ve met her before, and she’s really nice. Her name is Colleen Bordeaux, or Dr.Bordeaux. Set up a meeting with her, maybe for tomorrow if you can, and see what she says.”

“Okay.”

We sit in silence for a few more minutes.

“What is it like?” Phil finally asks, turning to look at me for the first time since we started talking. He looks genuinely interested and slightly concerned. “I mean, how does it feel. On your bad days. You tell me you have them but you never…elaborate.”

 “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it yet.” I murmur, looking away from him and instead at the dirt under the bench, shuffling my shoes in it. “It’s sort of hard to explain.”

 “That’s okay.” Phil reassures, quickly “You don’t have to tell me. But I just want you to know if you ever want to tell me anything. About how you’re feeling, or anything else…I’m always here.”

I glance up at him, studying his blue eyes for a moment. I still don’t feel better. I know I should. Logically, I know that I should cry or smile or feel some form of relief, but I don’t. I am still numb, feeling nothing. But for now, maybe that’s okay. It’s okay to not be okay, yet. That’s what the guy at the seminar said—‘It’s okay if you’re not okay, as long as you know that you one day could be.’

I don’t know if I will ever be okay, but Phil seems to think so. For now, I think, that’s enough.

Phil is still waiting for a response, eyes trained on me.

 “Okay.” I finally reply “Thanks, Phil.”


	11. May 23, Year 10

“Good luck with all your finals!” Phil calls as the shuffle of books begins just after the bell rings.

I deliberately pack slowly.

“Hey Dan, I’m going to have an end-of-the-term party at my house tonight. Are you coming?” Louise invites as the classroom empties, except for Phil who is still erasing the board.

“Er, no. Sorry. I’ve got to study for finals. We’ve only got the weekend, and I can’t afford to be hungover.” I reply, half paying attention, “I’m stressed enough as is.”

“Okay.” She shrugs “See you Monday.”

“Bye.”

She leaves the room, and Phil turns around from the board, looking concerned.

“Are you okay?”

I want to protest, but Dr. Bordeaux and I have been working on me talking about how I am feeling instead of repressing it.

Sighing, I slump down into my chair “No. Probably not anyway. I’ve been stressed about finals for ages. I’ve been getting A’s in all of my classes, and I’ve worked so hard this year, but I feel like…I need to doubly prove to my parents that I am really trying in school, so I really want to do well on my finals. But it’s so much to remember and practice and go over, you know?”

“It’s okay to feel that pressure.” He reassures, coming to sit next to me “However, you’re an incredibly dedicated student. You may just be overthinking how much you don’t remember. In any case, what can I help with?”

“Thank you.” I mumble, blushing from the praise “but it’s not your responsibility to-“

“Please, Dan?” he interrupts “I’ve got office hours now, and if you have nothing to do this afternoon I’d be happy to help you study. Plus, we could play on my Switch during breaks!”

He looks so excited and childish. I can’t help but smile back.

“Okay. If you’re sure it won’t be a burden.”

“You’re never a burden.” He answers quickly, “Come on, let’s get started.” He hops out of his chair and grabs his things. We walk down the already-empty hall to his office.

“So,” he grins, when we’re both seated at his desk “Where do you want to start?”

 

We began with the final essay for his class. I had already written a draft, so we finished the entire thing in 45 minutes flat. Moving on, we wrote up outlines for all my history essays, ran through pages upon pages of German charts- verb, noun, adverb and so many more. We went over all of my math chapters, working together through all the difficult problems until I felt confident on all of them. Then we edited my rough drafts for my final essay in science and ran flashcards with me for ages.

“Why don’t we take a break?” groans Phil, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his eyes, and tossing the final flashcard onto the table. He glances at the Mario-themed clock on his desk, which reads 8:00.

“We’ve done almost 5 hours of work.” He sighs

“I’m sorry.” I immediately apologize, feeling a flash of guilt for taking so much of his time.

“No, no! I’m so happy to be able to help you. I’m just a bit tired.” He admits

“Yeah. Me too.” I chuckle, emptily.

“Why don’t we order some dinner? What do you feel like?” He sits up, reaching for his phone.

“Pizza,” I suggest with a smile

“Sounds good. Dominos work?”

“Yep!” I grin

“Anything in particular?”

“I’m a sides-and dips-kind of guy, so we’ve got to have a bunch of those. Specifically, Wedges. Potato Wedges. And barbeque sauce.”

“Okay, and I personally like the Sizzler, maybe the Texas barbeque-“

“Either works for me—love them both.” I shrug

“Great. I’ll order, just give me a moment.”

He stands and walks out into the hall, and orders our pizza on his phone, before sitting back down next to me.

“Should be here in half an hour.” He promises

“Sounds good.” I nod “Because I’m starving.”

“Me too.” He nods

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Anytime.” He replies, his eyes warm “You should know that by now.”

“I know, but it still means a lot.”

He just nods in response, and I stifle a yawn.

“You look exhausted.” He murmurs, with a frown

“Thanks.” I sarcastically reply

He laughs, tongue-in-teeth, “No offense.”

I snort “Because that makes it all better.”

“Seriously, though, how much sleep did you get last night?” His smile switches to concern.

“Four-ish hours?” I shrug “It’s fine. Was doing work pretty late.”

“You should get more sleep.”

“No shit.” I tease, before stifling another yawn “But I will try tonight.”

“Pinky promise?” he holds out his hand.

“Pinky promise.” I link our pinkies tightly

“Anyway,” he starts, dropping our hands, “I think we need a proper break and since we do have 30 minutes…”

“What do you want to play?” I answers already knowing what he's thinking  

“Well there’s this game I have always wanted to try, but it requires two players. It’s called Overcooked. You basically have to work as a team of chefs to serve food.” He explains, excitedly

“Sure, that sounds fun!”

He pulls out his Nintendo Switch and sets up the game, before handing me the little blue controller. He sets it on his desk, and we go through the tutorial fairly easily before starting level one.

 

“Give me the tomatoes! Tomatoes! Tomatoes! Tomatoes! Now a mushroom! Mushrooms! Come on Phil, I need a-what the fuck? That’s a fucking onion, you spoon!”

“I’m trying! I’m sorry!”

“I need a Mushroom! I need-just give me one fucking-!”

“Okay, here, here!”

“I need a plate! Give me a plate! We’re out of fucking plates? You were supposed to wash the plates!”

“I thought I was supposed to get the ingredients-”

“and wash the goddamn- Phil it’s on fire! Fire! Put it out! Look over on the- Put it out!”

“I don’t know how!”

“You just-come here, come here I’ll put it out –“

“Oh God, oh no it’s spreading!”

“You’re in the way! I’m trying to put it out!” I shout back at him 

“I need an onion!”

“Now is not the time! Three tables are on fire, and I’m having a fucking breakdown!”

“Stop swearing!”

“A fire is burning down our kitchen, and you’re worried about my language? Are you- No! Phil stop! Put it in the pot, man! What are you-“

With a ding, the timer runs out, and we’re left with the results screen—a pathetic one-star score.

Both of us are panting.

“Jesus Christ.” I slump back in my chair, before glancing at Phil.

He’s got his hands over his mouth and is looking at me wide-eyed, but I can see from the crinkles by his eyes that he’s smiling under his hands.

“I feel like we were both to blame there.” He offers, pulling his hands away from his mouth to reveal his grin

“We’re both to blame?” I screech back “Are you kidding me?”

He just laughs in response, his tongue caught in his teeth, and I can’t help but feel my anger dissipate. “Okay, next time we’re assigning better roles. From now on you do the chopping, and I’ll handle the ingredients.”

“Okay.” He replies, neither looking nor sounding very guilty.

His phone rings and he leans over to check it. “Ah, Pizza has arrived.” He hops up “I’ll go get it.”

“Here let me-“ I start to dig through my bag for my wallet.

“No, no I’ve got it.” He waves me away, already halfway out the door.

“Please, you don’t have to pay for my portion-“

“I want to. You go sit down. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Giving up, I put my wallet back in my bag.

As I wait for him to come back, I glance at our finished game, and a bashful smile sneaks onto my face. My joy at spending time with him, both working and having fun, is making the stressful hell that is finals absolutely worth it. I’m sure my face is flushed both from the fact our arms were touching to play the game and all the yelling at the screen.

I wait for another few minutes, before he appears, with our pizza and sides in hand.

“Thank you.” I smile as he places it on the table and sits next to me.

“Of course, my pleasure.”

He opens the boxes, one containing our pizza, two more holding sides (wedges and nuggets) at least seven different sauces.

“How many sauces did you get?” I laugh as he pulls them all out, laying them in a row in front of us.

Shrugging, he replies “You said you were a sauce kind of guy. I’m not, so I have never had any, and I figured I’d just get them all. I’m a ketchup-and-rarely kind of guy, so they’re all yours.”

“Your loss.” I shrug

We dig in, hurriedly finishing the pizza and sides, making small talk as we do.

 

“That was good.” He sits back in his chair, hands resting on his stomach.

“It was. Thank you again….” I still feel guilty for not helping to pay for the pizza.

“Of course.” He grins. “So now what?”

“I don’t want to work yet,” I whine

“Why don’t we do something fun?” He offers

“I don’t have the energy to play Overcooked again.” I protest

“No, why don’t we watch some anime?”

“Okay.” I nod, and he grabs his laptop out of his bag.

“I was going to start season two of Attack on Titan this weekend. What do you think?” He suggests as he pulls up the tv series

“You finally finished the first one?” I tease “Took you ages.”

“Yes. Don’t make fun of how slow I am!” He pouts as I shift my chair closer to him.

“Just teasing.” I smile

He rolls his eyes and hits play on the episode. I’ve seen it before, but it’s so good it’s worth another watch. However, slowly, my eyes slide shut, and eventually, I completely fall asleep.

 

“Dan?” I wake to the sound of Phil’s voice

“Mmm?”

“It’s getting late.” He whispers, “I think we should get you home.” I sit up, blushing as I realize that I had fallen asleep, my head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, I’m glad you got some sleep.” He stands, before offering his hands to help me up. I accept, taking his hands and allowing him to pull me up.

“How far did we get into the episode before I fell asleep?” I laugh awkwardly as I grab my things

“Maybe 10 minutes.” He smiles

“Really?” I blush “I’m s-“

“Don’t you dare apologize! You needed the sleep.” He interrupts.

“Thank you.” Acting on impulse, I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing myself against him in a hug. He responds in kind, bending slightly to accommodate our height difference. With my head to his chest, I can feel his heart ricocheting, as clearly as my Mark pulsing. This is the closest we’ve ever been. We stand like that for what feels like both decades and seconds, perhaps because neither of us wants to move. I certainly don't. 

Eventually, though, we step back.

“Come on, we better get going.” Phil smiles, adjusting his bag, “It’s nearly 10:00 and you need sleep.”

“Okay.”

I follow him out of his office, and he locks the door behind me. We walk through the darkened, empty hallways and out the back door. The parking lot is poorly lit, and we make our way to his car half-blind.

“Are you feeling better about your finals?” he asks as he backs out of the spot.

“Yeah, I am. Thank you for studying with me. You were right by the way. I know more than I thought I did.”

“Of course, you did! You are an excellent student, Dan. Your parents should be proud.” There’s something in his voice that borders on frustration, or maybe irritation, at the mention of my parents. He takes a deep breath. “In any case, I’m proud of you.”

I look at him, his pale skin lighting up and fading under the street lights as we drive past them, overwhelmed with gratitude, affection, and surprise.

“Thanks, Phil,” I whisper

We arrive at my street a few minutes later, and he parks the car just outside my house.

“Have a good night Dan.” He smiles at me, and I, again, have to resist the urge to kiss him.

“You too. Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” He nods “Anytime.”

I grab my bag and get out of the car, before walking up the steps, unlocking the door, and stepping into the dark house. Turning around, I wave at Phil. He rolls down the passenger window and waves awkwardly through it, his head tipped to the side, grinning madly.

Laughing, I shut the door behind me.


	12. June 11, Year 10

I open my eyes to sunshine, pouring in through the window.

Rolling over, I see the clock reads 11:14, to my surprise. Mum and Dad must still be out—they would never let me sleep this late. I get out of bed and shuffle down the stairs.

“Happy Birthday, Dan.” Adrian grins, looking up from his phone when I walk into the kitchen.

“Thanks. Mum and Dad still not home?”

“No. They texted. Won’t be home until late tonight. Probably midnight. Sorry.”

I shrug, heading towards the cabinet where we keep the cereal “Probably for the best.”

“Hey, Dan?” I can already hear the begging in his voice.

“Yes?” I sigh, turning to face him again

His eyes crinkle as a huge grin spreads across his face “Can we please make pancakes?”

Pancakes are the only secret Adrian and I keep from our parents together. Mum and Dad always tell us not to use the stove when we’re home alone, but both hate to cook so they never make us anything even when we beg. About a year ago, Adrian and I started making our own, on occasion, when they were gone in the morning.

“Sure kiddo.” I grin and he drops his phone on the counter, hopping out of his chair, and runs to get the bowls while I pull out the ingredients.

 

I watch him as he pulls the hot pan off the stovetop, the nearly-done pancake inside of it.

“Careful,” I warn

“I’ve got it.” He whines back, eyes narrowed as he focuses on the pan in his hands. In a quick motion, he tosses the pancake into the air, and barely manages to catch it in the pan.

“Hey! Look at that!” I laugh as he whoops in pride. He slides the pancake off the pan and onto a plate where we’ve been stacking them for the past half-hour.

“The last one,” I promise, taking the pan from him and pouring the last of the batter into it.

“I’m starving.” He mumbles, his mouth full of one of our reject-pancakes (Only Adrian is willing to eat the sorry pancakes he managed to fling across the kitchen.)

“That’s your third already.” I tease “Now get the butter out I’ll meet you at the table.”

He does as he’s told and I join him once I’ve flipped the last pancake and added it to the plate of successful pancakes. We eat happily in silence for several minutes.

“Does this count as my birthday present to you?” He asks, mouth full of half-chewed pancake.

“Chew with your mouth closed,” I chastise “and only if you do the dishes.”

He sticks out his tongue at me, the impish smile returning “Fine.”

 

After we finish cleaning up, I head upstairs to get dressed. Phil and I agreed to meet at the park at 2:00 and it’s already half-twelve. I shower, straighten my hair, pull on a black tee shirt, ripped jeans and converse.

“Adrian? I’m going out for a bit. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be home after dinner, but there’s some Pizza in the fridge you can heat up if you get hungry.”

“If Mum and Dad call I’ll tell them you’re in the shower. Have a good birthday.” He answers, already camped out in front of the TV.

“Thanks, kiddo,” I call, shutting the door behind me.

Adrian and I have become considerably closer over the past few months, and it’s been kind of nice. He still sides with my parents as much as possible and I don’t blame him—it’s for his own protection—but when they don’t know any better or it’s just the two of us, he’s a pretty good partner in crime.

 

When I turn into the park entrance, I can see Phil’s already sitting on the park bench, intently reading a book, Thor lying at his feet. He’s in a short-sleeved, red, collared shirt, light-wash jeans, and _glasses_. I skid to a stop, just staring for a moment because _holy shit_. I knew he wore contacts, but he’d never worn his glasses before and he looks incredibly good in them. Realizing that he’s going to notice me staring eventually, I snap myself out of it and walk over.

Thor sees me first, standing and trotting over to me. Phil looks up from his book with a smile.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Thanks.” I manage to speak, staring at his glasses. He looks good without glasses, but with them and that adorable collared shirt…

I try and break my spiral of thoughts.

“You’re wearing glasses!” I squeak 

“Oh, yeah.” He laughs awkwardly “Ran out of contacts this morning.”

“I like them.” I admit “You should wear them more often.” 

“Yeah?” He grins as he stands up, tucking his book into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder

“Yeah.” I reply, “By the way, where are we going? You said you had a plan.” I add as we start down the path.

“It’s a surprise!” He protests “An end-of-the-year and birthday surprise.”

“Sounds fun.” I shrug, deliberately not looking at him “and I guess it could celebrate my final grades too.”

He gasps in shock “You got them back? I thought you were going to tell me! How did you do?”

I let the pause hang, dragging the moment on unnecessarily just to annoy him.

“Dan!” He begs, giving me a light shove with one hand, seeing straight through my poor attempt to hide my smile. 

“All A’s.” I fully grin.

“I knew it!” He cheers, wrapping me up in a quick, celebratory hug “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks.” I chuckle awkwardly “Even Mum and Dad were pretty impressed-” 

“It doesn’t matter what they think.” Phil interrupts quickly “How do you feel?”

My smile widens “Pretty fucking brilliant.”

“You deserve it, Dan. You’ve worked so hard. Now I’m doubly excited for you!” He is giddy, “Come on, I want to show you your surprise!”

We hurry down another street, before he stops at a tiny little coffee shop, with white paint and turquoise trim, a sign in script reading “Lulu’s Café” just above the door. Phil ties Thor to a bench and then holds the door open for me and I step inside. It smells of coffee and sugar. There is one woman in a turquoise apron working behind the counter. However, my eyes go right to the back of the room, where a beautiful, black grand piano sits.

“Good afternoon, Phil!” Smiles the woman as the door jingles shut behind us.

“Hello, Lulu! This is my friend, Dan. Today is his birthday!”

“Well isn’t that special!” She grins, brown eyes crinkling. She gives the air of someone’s grandmother, the type who gives warm hugs and keeps candy in her pockets. “Why don’t you sit down.”

She gestures at the empty tables, and Phil leads me to a table right next to the piano.

“What do you want, Honey?” She smiles at me, pulling a pen out of her bun.

“A coffee, please.”

“He likes Caramel.” Adds Phil and she nods, scribbling the order down, before looking up at Phil “The usual?” She asks and Phil nods before she hurries away.

“How did you even find this place?” I ask, looking around

“Well, it was an accident actually. I was looking for coffee in the afternoon one day and the place closest to the park was closed for repairs so I googled “Coffee near me” and found this gem! Lulu makes the best coffee on the planet.” He promises

I laugh “Of course. I shouldn’t have expected anything else from you.”

“Hey!” he protests lightly, “I thought you’d like it here. Plus, it’s pretty out of the way so maybe we could meet here sometimes. Instead of the park.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” I nod

“Two coffees!” Lulu announces, depositing them in front of us. Phil’s is in a mug the color of a robin’s egg, and mine is black and glittery.

“Thanks, Lulu!” Phil says picking his up and taking a sip “ah” he sighs, “Amazing.”

I take a sip, and I can’t help but agree. It’s silky, and definitely carries the softness of the caramel that I enjoy, but more importantly, the bitterness of the coffee doesn’t cut through the sugar, rather it somehow compliments it.

“Right?” Grins Phil after seeing the look on my face

“This is the best coffee I have ever had.” I agree and he grins with pride

“Told you!”

We both take a few more sips, and my eyes keep wandering over towards the piano.

“Do you want to play it?” Phil asks, having noticed where I was looking

“Can I?” As badly as I want to run my fingers across the keys, I am wary of overstepping.

“Yeah. Lulu offered it to me back when I first came here but I can’t play at all, so…” He shrugs, and I walk over to the piano. “Why don’t you play me something?”

“Anything in particular you want?” I ask, sitting down on the bench, whose black paint job is peeling, and it creaks underneath me.

“Surprise me.” He answers, eyes bright with excitement

I pause for a moment, and rest my fingers on the keys, trying to pick the perfect song. Then, the melody spills into the silence of the shop as my fingers fly up and down the piano, their path already memorized from hours of practice. When I finish, Phil claps wildly.

“How do you do that?” He demands, having turned around in his chair to watch me.

“What do you mean?” I tease slightly “This?” Turning back towards the piano, I quickly play the first few measures of Mozart’s Overture to ‘The Marriage of Figaro’.

“Shut up” huffs Phil, leaning over his chair to give my shoulder a shove, knocking me off-key, and I stop. “Seriously, though, how?”

I shrug “When I was little and my parents wanted to go out they’d drop me off at my Gran’s before she passed. Adrian was too young, but she would take me to her piano and teach me to play. She was the one who bought me the keyboard I have now and whenever I play a grand I think of her.”

“That’s so sweet,” Phil replies, softly.

“Here boys, I brought you some scones.” Lulu has walked back over, carrying a plate of scones. “and Phil, you didn’t mention your friend was a pianist.” She looks over at me with a warm smile “You can play here anytime honey, it’s been a while since someone who knew what they were doing played Penny.”

“Penny?” I reply, coming to sit back at the table

“That’s her name. The Piano.” Lulu says as if that was the most normal thing in the world. “and I mean it about playing: anytime you want.” 

“Thanks, Lulu.” I smile “And you really do make the best coffee.”

“Thank you, honey. Do you two need anything else?”

“No, thanks so much,” Phil replies, and she hurries away again. He turns back to me, and picks up a scone “Please play some more!”

“Maybe later.” I chuckle, coming to sit across from him again “I want to actually talk to you.”

“Fine.” He whines, before brightening immediately “Oh, I almost forgot your gift!” he gasps,

“You really didn’t have to-“ I start as he digs through his bag

“Of course I got you something! Here.” He hands me a package wrapped in blue plaid paper.

Slowly, I unwrap it, revealing the box set of my favorite anime, Death Note.

“Phil!” I shriek, turning it over in my hands, scanning the beautiful box “Are you shitting me?”

He laughs “You like it then?”

“I love it! Thank you so much!” I grin 

“You told me it’s your favorite so.” He shrugs “I’m glad you like it.”

 

We finished our snack, I play one more song, then we thank Lulu for the wonderful coffee and continue walking Thor through the park for a couple hours. We stopped to sit on the bench outside the dog play area, letting Thor run around 5:30.

“By the way, you’ll be walking Thor this summer, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” I nod

“Then you’ll need this.” He pulls a pen from his bag, along with a scrap of paper. “We won’t be able to confer in school so…” He hands me the paper, with his phone number on it.

My mouth goes dry, staring at the number, but I force a smile and tuck it into my jeans pocket. “Yeah, thanks.” I nod, before switching the topic “What’s your plan for tonight?”

“Just hanging out. Probably will order pizza. You?”

“Er, my parents are away so probably the same.” I try to be nonchalant, shuffling my feet

“You’re alone on your birthday?” The sadness in his voice makes me guilty enough to look over at him, and his concerned-about-Dan face.

“I mean, I’ll be with my brother…”

“Why don’t you see if Louise wants to go out or something? You shouldn’t be alone.”

Blushing, I mumble “Well she did offer to take me out to dinner but I wasn’t planning on taking her up on it.”

“Dan.” Groans Phil “Text her now and tell her you’ll meet her at the restaurant.”

“Phil,” I whine, but he’s insistent.

I text Louise, and she is inevitably thrilled, sending my phone into seizures with her frequent responses. Less than five minutes later I’ve agreed to go out with Louise, Bryony, Wirrow, Chris, and Hazel for my birthday. Part of me is really excited about the whole thing. 

“Well, if I am going to meet Louise at the restaurant by 7:00 I better get going.” I awkwardly say, standing up.

“Happy birthday again, Dan,” Phil replies, standing up beside me, a warm smile on his face 

“Yeah, and thank you so much for this afternoon, it was awesome. And my present.” I add and his smile widens even more 

“Anytime Dan. Have fun!” 

“Thanks.” I laugh, and he opens his arms and I step into them. 

I'll never get over the feeling of hugging him. He managed to hold on tight enough that it feels like he'll never let go, yet it's not crushing me. He's warm and I'm just the right height where my heads tucks up under his and sometimes, like today, he'll rest his chin on my head. I could do this for hours and never be content, but inevitably, we both step back after a few moments. 

"And thanks for making me go out tonight. I think I'm going to have a lot of fun." I say as I start down the path away from him

"Of course you will! Have a good night!" He calls after me

"Thanks! You too!" 

 


	13. June 20th, Year 10

“Daniel! Daniel!”

Floundering in my bed, panic overtakes me before I can even open my eyes.

“Wha? Dad, What?” I shout, trapped by my sheets, it takes several seconds for me to unceremoniously collapse out of my bed and onto the floor before scrambling to my feet. A glance at the clock reads 7:02.

“Your mother and I would like to see you downstairs.” His eyes are dark, and his face stern.

“Okay, okay.” I sigh, my heart rate still skyrocketing “I’ll be down in a moment-“

“Now.” There’s a bite to his words, I realize that it’s not urgency, but the all-too-familiar anger and irritation. Turning on his heel, Dad marches out of the room. I follow after him, grabbing a discarded shirt off the floor to pull on, running my fingers through my hair, and trying to wipe the sleep out of my eyes.

Mum is at the table, her face also grim, a grapefruit in front of her, which she’s picking at with a spoon. Trying not to look like I am sulking, I shuffle to the chair across from her as Dad sits down beside her.

“Your mother and I feel that you need more structure in your life.” Begins Dad in a monotone voice, after a moment, and I stifle a groan “We’ve found a full-time job for you this summer.”

Everything goes numb. All of the plans I had with Louise, with Phil, are gone.

“You’re lazy, Daniel. You stay up late doing God-knows-what, you sleep in late, and we know you walk that dog, but you have far too much free time. You can walk it during the school year.” Mum adds, and I try to quell the surge of anger that is quickly overtaking the numbness.

“But I worked so hard, all year! I got straight A’s, never got in trouble, kept a job, and helped with Adrian as much as I could. Haven’t I earned a free summer?” I am begging, but I can’t help it. I was supposed to play piano, hang out with Phil and go out with Louise and her friends. I can’t lose the summer I worked so hard for.

Dad doesn’t even think before replying, “We think this will be good for you, Daniel. You’ll work as an intern at the law firm with me.”

“It will be a good experience!” Mum encourages, and I snap, slamming my hands on the table.

“Yeah, I’m sure getting coffee and sucking up to some stupid lawyer is going to make me a more responsible person. Or more importantly, want to be a lawyer.” I shout, and Dad leaps to his feet, towering over me, furious.

“Do not yell at us, young man! Your Mum and I know what is best for you and that’s coming with me to work, starting Monday. You will behave because I will not have you embarrass me. Are we clear?”

I stare at the patterns in the wood of our table, tracing them absent-mindedly. Dad slams his hand down on the table in front of me. “Daniel!”

“Yeah.” I whisper, “we’re clear.”

An uncomfortable pause follows, and Dad sits again, next to Mum.

“What if he works part-time?”

My head snaps up to find Adrian in the kitchen doorway, dressed in his favorite blue jumper, his arms crossed.

“I mean, he’s worked all year, and he got A’s in school, so why-“Adrian says, but Mum quickly interrupts him

“This does not involve you, Adrian.” Her tone is light, but the intention clear. Despite the warning, Adrian continues

“But it’s not fair!” He is yelling now, “He deserves at least a compromise!”

“Go to your room!” Dad thunders and Adrian turns around, storming down the hall before stomping up the stairs.

I stare at the doorway in surprise. That is the first time Adrian has ever come to my aid against our parents. I am somewhat speechless, overwhelmed with gratitude for his fundamentally stupid, futile and yet, courageous act.

“You mustn’t lie to him.” Mum scolds, “He’s at a very impressionable age, and he needs a better role model.”

It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to scream in frustration and anger. They won’t even listen to or believe me. They always remind me that I have attitude problems when it is really them. How can I possibly defend myself when their word is the law?

“May I go?” I manage to keep my voice calm and Mum nods. I hurry from the table and up the stairs to my room. I punch my password into my computer and send a message to AmazingPhil.

Danisnotonfire: Bad day. Need to talk. Meet at Lulu’s at 8:00?

I don’t even know what I am going to say, but I am far too angry to care. I don’t bother waiting for a response before I pull on pants, shoes, and heading out the door. I’m only out five minutes when I realize my mistake of not bringing a coat. The downpour is thick, filling the air with droplets and mist from where the water explodes upon impact with the pavement. It’s dark, despite the early morning and I am soaking wet by the time I arrive at Lulu’s. The rain has begun to slow to a stop by the time I slip into the coffee shop door as quietly as I can.

Lulu’s cleaning the countertops and turns at the sound of the bell on the door.

 “Morning, Dan! Oh honey, can I get you a towel to dry off?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, Lulu.”

“Of course, I don’t mind! You go sit, I’ll be back in a mo’!”

Slumping down in my chair, at the table Phil and I always sit at, I stare off into space.

“Here you go, Honey.” Lulu has returned and hands me a pale blue towel. “How are you doing?”

“Not so great, Lulu,” I admit, and she nods

“Got that from your mid-downpour arrival and the time of day. Once you finish drying, do you want to play?” She gestures to the piano with a warm smile. “Go on, always makes you feel better.”

“I don’t think it will today, Lulu.” I sigh, patting down my arms and legs.

“Alright, honey. I’ll get you your usual.” She replies, sympathetically and I nod.

I ruffle my hair with the towel, trying to prevent any more icy drops from slipping down my neck. Once I’m sufficiently only damp, Lulu comes over and trades the towel for my caramel macchiato.

“Thank you.”

 “Of course, honey.”

The door rings open, and I turn to see Phil, dressed in what looks like whatever he could find, hair a mess, looking concerned, and somewhat panicky. His eyes find me, and everything about him relaxes slightly.

“Dan.” He says my name in a sigh of relief “Are you okay?”

Tears start to fall before I can stop them and I angrily try to wipe them away. He walks over and pulls his chair over towards me, sitting, so we’re knee-to-knee. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I hate them.” I sob, “I hate them, and I hate myself for hating them.”

“Who? Your-“

“Parents.” I interrupt him, “I hate them, Phil. They’re…” I shake my head, coughing through some of the tears “They think I am a failure no matter what I do. I worked so hard this year, Phil. You know I did. I got A’s, I got a job, I played piano gigs, and I took care of Adrian, but it’s never enough. I am never enough.”

“Hey, stop that. That’s not true, and you know it.” Phil replies, firmly, handing me a napkin “Just because they don’t see it doesn’t mean you’re not doing enough. You worked hard, and you should be proud of yourself. Remember what Dr. Bordeaux said? You have to stop the negative thoughts and reframe them. How do you feel?”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel.” I reply, bitterly “They say I am lazy and irresponsible, so they’re forcing me to work as an intern at my dad’s law firm, full-time, all summer. I’ll have a job from 8 to 7 each day, six days a week, Phil. I’ll never get to see you or hang out with Louise or even practice Piano. I’ll be schlepping coffee around for some asshole lawyers all summer, never out of eyesight of my Dad and I can’t,” another sob overtakes my speech “I can’t do it. It’s not fair.”

Phil envelops me in a hug as I sob into his shoulder.

“Dan, I know this isn’t how you planned your summer and I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t disappointed for you. You do deserve a free summer. You’re a brilliant kid and a hard worker. I know that, and more importantly, you know that. You’ll still have the evenings and Sundays so you can find time to practice, and play piano, or hang out with Louise. Maybe you and I could have Sunday brunch here once every two weeks or something. I promise Dan, that even though this is really unfair, you’re going to be okay.”

I nod into his shoulder, still clinging tightly to him. He’s warm, and his smell is almost more comforting than his arms around me. He doesn’t rush the hug and only lets me go when I start pulling back. I notice there’s a wet spot on his shirt from my tears.

“Sorry,” I mumble, reaching out to wipe the spot.

“Oh, it’s fine. Not one of my favorites anyway.” He shrugs, a small smile on his face, and I laugh

“Can’t take credit. It’s a line from a movie. Have you ever seen When Harry Met Sally?” Phil asks, grinning now, and I shake my head no.

“Ah, well, excellent movie. You should watch it.”

I nod and wipe my nose using the napkin he had given me earlier. He tugs his chair more towards the table, so we’re both facing the table.

“Thanks, Phil.”

“Of course, Dan. I am really sorry.”

“Thanks.” I sigh again, taking a sip of my drink. “I really wanted to see you this summer.” I stare at the table. “Especially because I won’t have an excuse to see you during school next year.”

I was expecting an awkward pause, but he responds quickly and brightly “Yeah, but we can work around that.” I look over at him, hopefully. “You’ll still be taking English, so could tutor you. Outside of that, you can still come by every so often.”

“That sounds good.” We smile, somewhat goofily at each other for a moment

“Do you want your usual, Phil?” Lulu comes over to the table, smiling at the two of us. She places extra napkins on the table.

“Yes, Lulu, thank you.” Nods Phil and she hurries off. “So let’s talk about something happier.” He says, turning back to me, “I finally finished the third season of Attack on Titan.”

   After some coffee and nearly two hours of talking, I head home and, to avoid my parents as much as possible, hide in my bedroom. Around 4:00, I sneak into Adrian’s room. He’s working on something at his desk. I walk over to see he’s drawing a comic of some sort, the pages of it splayed around him as he works, completely focused.

“Adrian.”

He jumps, dropping his pencil and whirling around “Jesus, Dan.” He gasps, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry. What are you working on?”

“Nothing.” He mumbles, grabbing the papers and trying to hide them.

“It’s okay if you want to tell me. You’re making comics, right? You’re really good.”

He blushes, before slowly holding one out to me. “It’s what I do when I’m too bored with schoolwork or homework. I really like to draw. I made up a, and he fights all the bad guys.” He explains, eyes bright with excitement, “I thought that if I get a little better, I could maybe make a book!”

“That would be awesome!” I reply, and he grins

“The superhero’s name is Adriel. His arch-nemesis is Pardamun. Pardamun has a lot of minions, which Adriel is constantly fighting. See?” He hands me more papers, his superhero valiantly battling various bad guys.

“This is awesome, Adrian, why don’t you show anyone?”

He shrugs, “Mum and Dad say that drawing is not a way to make money and nobody else really cares so…”

“I care.” I say, quickly, handing back his comic pages “I love them. Please show me more when you make them.”

“Really?” The surprise and hopefulness in his voice breaks my heart

“Yeah, of course, kiddo.”

I start heading out of the room before pausing “Thanks for sticking up for me earlier. I really appreciate it.”

“But it didn’t do anything.” He replies, confused

“Doesn’t matter. It’s like Adriel. He fights for what is right. Even if he loses sometimes.”

That puts a smile on Adrian’s face, and I turn, opening his door.

“Dan.” He calls, and I turn back around.

“Yeah?”

“Adriel is half me, half you. Adrian and Daniel. Adriel.”

My chest aches with affection, “Thanks, kiddo.”

Leaving his room, a grin on my face, I shut the door behind me.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, 
> 
> I am sorry for the extremely long and unannounced hiatus! I was wrapping up my senior year in high school and got really busy on final projects, and then graduation so I really didn't have the time to write (or even edit the chapters I had written) and I wanted to wait until I had the time to post something I felt would be worthy. So...I'm back! It's finally summer and I am ready to post at least one chapter a week (probably on Thursdays or Fridays) for at least the remainder of the summer! Then college starts and honestly I'm not sure what's going to happen then, but I promise I won't abandon this story! It'll get done even if it takes a while! I hope everything is going your way, and that someone or something has made you smile today! 
> 
> With Love,   
> TempestWolfe


	14. September 8th, Year 11

I roll over, the familiar sound of my alarm paired with the early time of day only adding to the feeling of dread already pooling in my stomach. The first day of school, year 11. Fighting a groan, I turn off my alarm and get out of bed. I hop in the shower, the cold water helps to wake me up. I get out, dry off, and get dressed. After straightening my hair, I head downstairs to see Mum and Dad at the kitchen table.

“Good morning, Daniel,” Mum says, focused on her granola and yogurt. Dad is still buried in the newspaper.

“Morning, Mum, Dad.”

I grab a granola bar from the kitchen cabinet and head towards the foyer. Adrian thunders down the stairs, backpack on, grinning.

“Morning, Dan!” He says, before heading into the kitchen

“Morning, Kiddo!” I call after him.

From the front door, I can hear Mum and Dad chatting with Adrian. I watch as the bus pulls up at the end of the driveway.

“Adrian! Bus!” I yell down the hall, opening the door, and heading down the street to the bus

  

“Dan!”

I’m enveloped in a whirl of pink and blonde.

“Louise!” I grin, clinging tightly to her, “Hi, how are you!”

“Good! God, it feels like weeks since I last saw you!” She replies, pulling away to scan my face

“Lou, I literally saw you less than 10 days ago.” I roll my eyes.

She went away to Switzerland with her family towards the end of summer break. We had spent much of the summer meeting for dinner or a movie after I finished work each day, as Phil suggested, and we had grown pretty close.

“I know, but I missed you!” She hugs me again, and I laugh

“I missed you too! Come on, I have to drop my books off.” We walk into the school, Louise chatting away about her trip as I dump all of the books out of my bag and into my locker.  The bell rings, and Louise cringes.

“Ugh, I have to go. At least I will see you later, in maths and history! Bye!” she gives me one more hug before hurrying away.

 

I grab my books for German and start down the hallway, rushing slightly, so I’m not late when I am on my first day. I catch sight of Phil’s dark hair and turn to say hi. We haven’t seen each other in nearly a month, for one reason or another, and have only spoken through our videogames. Before I can call out to him, I slam into something solid and stumble backward, dropping some of my books.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going. Here let me help you,” Gasps a warm voice.

I look over to see a guy bent over, picking up the books I dropped. The first things I notice are his tattoos. Vines of red roses crawl up his biceps before disappearing under a black tee-shirt. Then I see the contrasting pastel blue skinny jeans, which are strategically ripped in various places all down his legs, to the tops of his converse—which are bright red, almost as if to match his tattoos. He straightens up, smiling, and holds my books out to me.

He’s taller than me, but only by a few inches, with long light brown hair that he’s slicked to the side on the left, and to the back of his head on the right. His face is somewhat cherubic, slightly flushed, and his eyes are blue and caring, crinkling at the sides with his smile.

“Thank you, sorry for running into you.” I manage, taking the books from his arms.

“No, no, it was all my fault.” He immediately apologizes, his smile growing wider. He sticks his hand out, “James Baley.”

When he sticks his arm out, I notice something silver slip out from the V-neck on his shirt. It’s a silver bullet, on a chain around his neck.

I shift the books to one arm, and reach out to shake his hand. “uh, Dan Howell.”

“Nice to meet you. What year?”

“Nice to meet you too. And Eleven. You?”

“Thirteen. Are you going….” He gestures down the hall, and I nod.

We start down the hall, in the direction I was going. It’s quickly emptying as everyone is heading for their first-period class.

“Thirteen,” I repeat, “So you’re thinking about Uni and everything right?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” He nods, glancing down at me with a smile “I’m hoping for Cambridge but…” He shrugs, “It’s so competitive I probably won’t get in.” 

“The whole Uni system is so fucking stupid.” I huff

“Little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” He teases, laughing

“Sort of, yeah.” I flash him another smile

“Well, luckily I’ll be done in a year or so. You, on the other hand…”

“Oh, I know.” I sigh, “Three more fucking years.”

“Well, it could be worse.” He points out, and I look over at him in surprise

“Really.” I reply, deadpan “How?”

He smirks, nudging me with his shoulder “I don’t know. I’m just saying it could be worse.”

“Well, thank you for that insight.” I snort, nudging him back, “Idiot.”

“Hey!” He laughs

 “Why do you wear a bullet?” I ask, after a short pause

“It’s a metaphor. I actually don’t like guns very much.” I laugh, and he chuckles, continuing, “I know how it sounds, but I like the idea of taking aim. Trying to hit the bulls-eye, you know?”

I nod, still confused.

“Look.” He stops short and reaches for his bullet, “It unscrews, and inside is a piece of paper. I’ve written all the goals I want to accomplish this year on it. So, I am taking aim. Understand?” He shows me how it opens before closing it quickly.

“Yeah, that’s really cool!”

“Thanks.”

We continue walking as the final bell rings.

“What class do you have now?” I ask him

“German. I’m only at level three. Languages were never my thing.” He shrugs

“I’m going to German too,” I reply, surprised, as we turn down the final hall to our classroom

“Really? Wow, you must be really good.” He says, impressed, and I blush

“I don’t know, I’m just lucky, I guess.” I brush the compliment off as smoothly as I can.

He laughs as we walk into the classroom “I don’t think luck has anything to do with it.”

We sit next to each other, just in time for class to start.

 

    At the end of the day, I head down the familiar hallway toward Phil’s office. I peer through the window to see him hard at work, typing away on his laptop. I knock on the door, and he jumps slightly, before turning in his chair. He grins and leans forward to open the door.

“Dan! Come in! How was the first day of year 11?”

“It was pretty good, actually.” I answer, sitting down in my usual chair as Phil shuts the door “Got to see Louise again, and I missed her a lot, actually. I missed you a lot too.” I don’t stop myself from the much more affectionate ending and feel my face heating up. Phil sits back in his chair, blue eyes sparkling, grinning.

“I missed you too, Dan.”

There’s a pause, and my mind immediately begins filling it with insecurities. I pull myself back to focus on the moment in front of me and try to calm myself down, the way Dr. Bordeaux taught me.

“This summer wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.” I admit, “You were right. I even got a commendation by the lawyers who work with my Dad for my hard work. You should have seen the look on my Dad’s face when they were telling him they hoped I could come back next summer. How is Thor?”

“I’m so happy for you, Dan,” Phil replies, his entire face shining with pride.

After a month of not looking at his face, I somehow find it more intoxicating than before. It’s like each expression he makes is more beautiful than the last, and I find myself just staring, not really listening to what he’s saying. I don’t refocus in time, and he stares at me quizzically for a moment after he’s finished speaking.

“Uh, sorry, what?”

He laughs, “Where were you? I said that I am glad you could prove your work ethic to your Dad and that Thor missed you, and his walks with you too. Do you want to start walking him again after school?”

“Oh, yeah, that would be great!” I nod

“What were you thinking about?”

Panic flashes through me for a moment, and I freeze, open-mouthed, before coming up with the first excuse I can.

“Uh, I was thinking about my goals for this year. I, um, I met this guy named James today. He’s in my German class. He wears this bullet that opens, and it has his goals for the year in it, and I thought I should do something like that. Sorry for going all spacey on you.”

“No, it’s fine! He sounds fascinating, is he in your year?”

“Uh, no. Thirteen.”

“Oh. So, what goals do you have in mind so far?”

This is quickly going in the wrong direction, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“Uh, I was thinking about getting more exercise. Doing well in class. That sort of thing.” I finish lamely, before quickly changing the subject “what have you been doing the past month or so?”

“The usual. Tutoring, walking Thor, watching too much anime, and, as you know, playing video games with you. Oh! I met this old lady who sells homemade ice cream, which is amazing. We have to go some time. She’s like the opposite of Lulu: all leather and dark clothes and black hair, but the best ice cream!” He smiles, guiltily, “I may have gone more than three times in the past week.”

“Phil!” I chastise, teasingly and he laughs

“I couldn’t help it! It’s so good!”

“Well, why don’t you show me where it is after school sometime when I’m walking Thor?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“That’s all you did? Watched anime with Thor and ate ice cream?”

“I also went to visit my parents up North…”

As he talks about his summer, I try not to notice the almost conspicuous lack of PJ in his description. I can’t decide whether he is doing in for my benefit, or whether PJ really wasn’t part of any of these things Phil did, probably due to his work. I can’t decide which option I hope is accurate and feel slightly guilty. Phil is my soulmate, and I want him to be happy even if it’s not with me.

“Dan?” Phil pokes my shoulder, and I stare at him in confusion

“Uh, yeah?”

“Just making sure you were listening.”

“I was! You were chased by a goose, fell asleep in the park, nearly lost Thor and might have seen J.K Rowling when you were playing Mini Golf with your Mum!” I list off various things he claimed that he had done in the month since we last saw each other.

“Alright. Just making sure. What else did you do?”

 

After talking for over an hour, we say our goodbyes as I really have to get home to start on my homework. I am rushing through the halls to make my bus, where Adrian is trying to get the bus driver to delay a little bit so I can get on in time.

“Dan!” I skid to a stop and turn to see James hurrying to catch up with me

“If you want to talk we’ve got to move because I am going to miss my bus,” I explain quickly, and James laughs

“Okay, then.” We continue, somewhere between a fast walk and a jog, “I was wondering if you would give me some help in German.”

“It’s the first day, we haven’t even learned anything yet,” I reply, panting slightly

“I know, but I also know that I am no good with languages. Maybe we could meet after school once a week or something? If not, it’s fine. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Of course, I will help. How about Thursdays?” I suggest as I slow to a walk, just meters away from my bus.

“Yeah, that’ll be great. Thanks so much, Dan.”

“Anytime,” I reply as I step onto the bus

“Oh, here!”

I turn, and James slaps a piece of paper into my hand, grinning wildly “My number.”

Staring in surprise, I then look down at the paper in my hands, blue pen detailing the digits of his number on a scrap of lined paper. When I look up again, he’s already halfway across the lawn.

“Are you getting in or not?” demands the bus driver angrily from behind me.

“Coming,” I reply, climbing back in the bus, and sitting down in my usual seat, the crumpled paper growing sweaty in my fist.


	15. October 31, Year 11

I can’t help but be proud of my makeshift costume as I examine it in the mirror, twisting this way and that to ensure none of the green makeup has smeared onto the tan shirt. Seeing as I promised Phil I would dress up for Halloween, and as a result, agreed to go out with Louise again, I decided to pick a costume I would actually like, and went with my personal icon: Shrek. I woke up 45 minutes early just to apply all of the green makeup on my face, before pulling on the Shrek hat, tunic, trousers, and gloves. Although the makeup is dry and itches, the costume is much more comfortable than last year.

“Hey, Dan-“Adrian opens my door, before freezing, his eyes wide. He’s dressed as Luke Skywalker, including a blue plastic lightsaber in his hand.

“What are you doing in my swamp!” I yell, and he laughs

He laughs, “That’s amazing! I honestly did not think you were going to commit that hard. I figured a Shrek shirt was enough for you.”

“Ye of little faith!” I reply before grabbing my backpack, “Is the bus here?”

“Any minute.” He nods.

Following him downstairs, I try to avoid the unimpressed looks my parents are giving me.

 

As we pull up to the school, I can see James sitting in the grass, dressed in a pair of red dungarees, with a red and white hat—he’s Mario. I grin and when he notices me getting off the bus, waves at me. I wave back, before ducking into the building. Every week after school, I tutor James in German, and we’ve grown pretty close. I haven’t made a friend independent of Louise for years, besides Phil of course, and I really enjoy spending time with him.

“Dan, you look brilliant!” laughs Louise as she runs up to me, clad, as always, in bright pink. She’s in a pink dress, with pale pink balloons attached to it at various places, and silver shoes. She’s got a beauty mark and has a headband of smaller pink baubles.

“Louise, what-“

“I’m bubblegum—see?” she turns to reveal a silver BAZOOKA logo pasted on the back of her dress, “I told you this a month ago! Bryony and Wirrow are MnM's…” she tries to jog my memory, but I just stare, and she rolls her eyes, still smiling, “You’re so spacey! It’s impossible to tell you anything.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, whatever!” She grins, rolling her eyes again “You’re coming tonight, yeah?”

“Of course!” I promise, “Why would I get dressed up otherwise?”

“True, true” she laughs, the bell ringing cutting her off. “Ugh, alright I’ll meet you at my car at dismissal, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds great! By the way, is it okay if I bring a friend with me?”

“You? Bring a friend?” She teases, and I give her a light shove “Come off it. I haven’t asked if he wants to go, but I want to invite him.”

“Is he someone special?” She continues to tease, and my face grows red

“What? No, we’re just friends.”

“Fine, and of course you can bring him.”

The second bell rings

“Thanks, Lou!” I turn and hurry towards English

“Bye!” She shouts after me, as I take the stairs two at a time to get to class on time.

Phil and I have been frustratingly careful about meetings because there really is no reason for me to be meeting with him. I get good grades in all of my classes, so there’s no point in saying he’s tutoring me, and he insisted that I not try to do worse on a few English assignments to warrant the tutoring. He’s not my advisor, and even if I said we were friends, that doesn’t discount trying to meet nearly every single day now that he’s no longer my teacher. It was his idea to make a schedule so that we’re careful and consistent: On Tuesdays and Thursdays and Saturdays I walk Thor, and we go out for coffee (or ice cream), but I have to get to the park by myself instead of him driving. On Wednesdays, we get to meet after school, and he drives me home, and on Mondays and Fridays, we reserve at least two hours to playing video games together. He chooses the game on Monday, and I pick on Friday. We’ll sometimes go out for lunch on Sundays if PJ is working, but that only happens about once a month. It’s the best we can manage, but I will take anything. 

 

After I finish lunch, I hurry back to school and make my way to Phil’s office. Although we’re not supposed to meet today, I really want to see his costume. As I round the corner, I catch sight of him fumbling with the books in his hands as he tries to unlock his door. He is also in full Thor getup, with his hammer resting on top of the books in his arms.

“Do you want some help?” I offer

He looks over at me, before bursting out laughing

“Shut up!” I retort, chest warm at the sound of his laugh “Let me help.”

I grab the keys from his hands and unlock the door with ease, pushing it open so he can shuffle inside.

“Nice costume.” I praise, stepping in the office behind him and shutting the door. “Though it’s a little weird considering your dog’s name.”

“I thought it was cute! This way, we matched!”

“Phil!” I whine, dragging his name out, “Did you really buy your dog a matching Thor costume?”

“No.,” he mumbles, a guilty smile on his face, “he’s Loki.”

“Phil!” I screech, “Oh my god. You’ve even got the black hair and everything, and his name is Thor, but you still made him-oh never mind.” I sigh as he cackles

“I like your costume too.” He compliments

“Thank you, I feel like Shrek speaks to my soul.” I rest my hands on my heart, peacefully, for a moment. Then I glance at the clock behind Phil, and we’re nearing the first bell, “Anyway. I’ve got to go, I just wanted to see your costume.” I head towards the door.

“We’re on for gaming tonight?”

“Uh, yeah, but I’m hanging out with Louise tonight too. I should be back around midnight if that isn’t too late?”

He shakes his head, “Nope, not at all. I should be free until at least 2 or 3.” He promises.

I know he means PJ’s shift ends around then, but recently he’s made significant efforts to leave PJ out of our conversation, either out of guilt or to be kind to me. Either way, it’s appreciated.

“Great. We’re playing Fortnite.” I announce to him, opening the door “Bye!”

“Dan!” he protests, but I’m already out of the door, and hurrying down the stairs.

 

I’m just staring at the clock, watching it slowly tick towards the hour, listening to Mrs. May drone on and on about German pronouns. As soon as the bell rings, I’m up out of my chair, and shoving all of my books, pencils and loose papers into my bag haphazardly. Once I have swung my bag onto my back, I turn to James, who is calmly putting his things away next to me.

“Hey, James.”

“Yeah?” He looks up with a smile, his Mario hat falling slightly.

“I know that coming to a year 11 party doesn’t sound that awesome, but I’d like it if you’d come out with a couple other people and me. We’re pregaming at Louise’s house from now until 6:30 and then heading over.”

“Yeah, I’d love to.” His smile grows even wider “Thanks for the invite. I’ve got work until 6:00, but if you give me the address, I can meet you there.”

“Sure, here.” I dig a pencil and a scrap of paper from my bag before writing down the address.

“See you later!” he says as he takes the paper

“Bye!” I run down the stairs and get into the car with Louise, Chris, Bryony, Wirrow and Hazel.

Three hours later, it’s 6:30 and everyone but Hazel is a little tipsy. We played a very intense game of rock, paper, scissors to determine who would be our designated driver, and Hazel lost.

“God will you guys keep it down!” yells Hazel over the cacophony of shouting and laughter

“You’re just mad you’re the driver.” Giggles Bryony, from the backseat, before leaning over to press her lips into Wirrow’s neck.

I wrinkle my nose and squirm as far away from them, though it’s impossible when we’re all crammed together. Chris is in the back with Louise and Hazel’s girlfriend was granted shotgun as it’s her first time going out with us.

  
We pull up to the house, which is too small for the number of people filling it, as every step I take, I bump into someone. I shuffle awkwardly between people before getting to the kitchen and grabbing a beer. It’s dim, and the people around me are more silhouettes than anything else.

“Dan.” A voice calls and I turn and can barely make out James in the dim light.

“Hey, James. I’m glad you could make it!” I hand him a beer, and he nods, gratefully.

“This is quite a party.”

“I know.” I glance around, with a frown, “I kind of hate it.”

He laughs, “Ray of sunshine, as always.”

“Of course,” I reply, a smile returning to my face. Someone else runs into me, and I nearly spill my drink everywhere. “Mother-“

“Come on, let’s maybe find somewhere with more room.” Urges James and I follow him through the house, and out the back door.

It’s cool and dark outside, though lightning bugs blink in the bushes around the small backyard. We sit on the cold stone step of the back door and stare out into the darkness. Looking up, the three-quarter moon is just peeking out from some clouds, and the stars are beginning to dot the sky.

“This is much better.” I sigh, before taking in a deep breath and staring up at the sky

“Mmm.” Hums James in agreement

“Why do you come to parties if you hate them?” He asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Louise likes them, and she and I have been friends for years. She is great about always trying to include me in stuff with her and the group. I don’t really know them as well, but they’re all nice people. If I put in a bit more effort, we’d all probably be friends.”

“So, is that what these parties are? A bit of effort?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“And you and Louise…?” He trails off, but the implication is clear

“Oh, no. Just friends. God, no. I mean, I really like her but…no. No. She’s not my type.” I fumble the statement, taken off guard by the question.

“So are you excited for Uni?” I try to change the topic, before wincing “Sorry, I know that no year 13 wants to talk about that. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m excited about the change, but I also don’t hate how things are now, you know? But I don’t know. I guess I’ll know more when I figure out where I’m going. I’m sure it’ll all be fine.”

“You’re very relaxed. I wish I were that relaxed.”

He laughs, “I wish I had your dedication. I’d at least be a better German student that’s for sure.”

“No, you’re not bad!” I reassure him, and he laughs again

“You’re just nice.”

We talk for hours, the conversation light and comfortable in a way that I wasn’t expecting. Eventually, we fall into an agreeable quiet, just looking into the darkness and listening to the sounds of the party behind us.

“So, you’re claimed, right?” He asks, breaking the silence after nearly 10 minutes.

“Yeah, I am.” I nod, leaning over to show him the design on my left wrist

“I’m not.”

I glance over at him, but he’s back to looking at the sky

“When I was a kid, I was so angry about it. My parents are claimed, and so are my siblings. Just me, all alone. There was never anyone meant for me. Somewhere along the line, I decided that I had to make my own love, you know?”

I nod in agreement, glancing back at him again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I mean, the majority of people aren’t claimed anyway.”

“I really get what you’re saying, though it’s just the opposite for me.” He looks at me in surprise. “My brother and parents are all unclaimed. Apparently, I didn’t need any love or attention if there was someone already waiting for me. But I’ve gotten closer with my brother, and as for my soulmate… I’ve decided that whether I find them or I don’t doesn’t determine who I should love. Because everyone deserves love.”

I turn to look at him, to see if he’s still listening and find him staring right at me. I freeze, and for a moment, we just stare at each other, glowing in the light beside the back door. Perhaps it’s the alcohol making my eyes play tricks on me, but it almost seems like his eyes keep flickering away from mine, down towards my mouth. He moves a fraction of an inch closer, and I look away. He moves away a moment after me, and we go back to staring at the darkness.  
My heart rate has picked up.

I glance at my watch before standing up. “It’s almost 11:30. I better go find Lou, or I’m never going to get home.”

“Oh, okay. I could give you a ride if you wanted?” He offers, scrambling to his feet

“Thanks, but you’ve been drinking,” I reply as nicely as I can

“Right, sorry. But I’ll, uh, see you in school Monday?”

He’s suddenly so awkward that I can’t help but smile at him “Of course! Bye James. Thanks for making this party somewhat bearable.”

He laughs, “Thank you.”

I nod in response and head inside. Louise pulls me aside almost immediately.

“Oh my god, who was he? How do you even know him! He’s adorable.” She gushes, with her usual excitement, though significantly louder than normal.

“Shhh.” I hiss, knowing we’re definitely within earshot of James “That was my friend, James.”

“He’s hot.” She giggles, “Is he available?”

“Uh, I mean, I’m not-“I babble, and her eyes go wide

“You like him?”

“I really-“

“Oh my god, that’s so cute! And you guys were out there all night! Did he make a move? Did you? Did you kiss?”

“Louise!” I grab her arm and tug her away from the doorway, into a greater throng of people “Will you please shut up?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry your secret is safe with me,” she grins, before leaning closer to whisper in my ear “Loverboy.”

“Fucks sake.” I groan, looking around for the rest of our group.

I manage to catch Hazel’s attention, and she helps me round everybody else up and into the car.

 

Running up the stairs as quietly as I can, I hurry to my computer. I’m eleven minutes late for the meeting time I set with Phil. It takes two tries for me to sign in, because I am rushing, and as soon as I register as online I see Phil is already active. A message pings less than 10 seconds later.

**AmazingPhil:** Hello! How was the party?

**Danisnotonfire:** Terrible, per usual. I sat outside with my friend James for most of the night

**AmazingPhil:** Well that doesn’t sound terrible

**Danisnotonfire:** That part wasn’t I guess

**AmazingPhil:** You know what does sound terrible? Playing Fortnite.

**Danisnotonfire:** LMAO Shut up! It’s my night, and that’s what we’re playing.

I minimize the chat and open the game, fully prepared for the barrage of complaints I am going to get from Phil. The chat reopens with another message.

**AmazingPhil:** Fine. Anything for you!

My heart skips a beat, and I blush, minimizing the chat again, before inviting Phil to play a match with me.


	16. November 8, Year 11

_“Hey, Dan?” I look up from my phone to see James standing beside me. He looks uncomfortable, his brown hair a mess, and shifting from one foot to the other. I’m not sure how he even found me, as I’ve been nestled in the back corner of the library on my phone for all of lunch._

_“Yeah?”_

_“Uh, nothing.” He mutters, his cheeks turning pink._

_“Is everything okay?” I reply, concerned_

_“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after school today?”_

_“Yeah, sure. What do you want to do?” I smile, and he returns it, relaxing slightly_

_“Maybe coffee?”_

_“Sure. I could always go for a caffeine boost.” I joke, and he chuckles. I frown, looking closer at him “Are you sure you’re okay?”_

_“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. See you later.”_

_He turns and flees, leaving me to stare after him in confusion._

_“So how was your day?” I ask as he hands me my caramel macchiato and sits across from me._

_“It was good. I actually did really well on our German test. I meant to tell you.” He smiles somewhat bashfully at me_

_“That’s great!” I grin, “I’m so proud of you!”_

_“I didn’t even tell you what I got yet!”_

_“It doesn’t matter—as long as you feel proud of it, the number doesn’t matter.”_

_As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize I have been encouraging him the same way that Phil would for me. The realization makes me slightly uncomfortable and rather proud._

_“You’re definitely right.” He smiles, “Thank you for all of your help.”_

_“Of course! It’s been a lot of fun, actually.”_

_“Yeah, yeah it has.” He nods, before looking down at his coffee._

_There’s a long pause before he snaps his head up and takes a deep breath._

_“Do you want to go on a date with me?”_

 

“Dan? Hello? Earth to Dan?” 

I snap out of my thoughts to focus on Phil waving his hand in front of my face. 

“Sorry.” I blush, “I was thinking.” 

“About what?” Phil asks as he tosses his coffee cup in the park trash. 

“Nothing,” I reply, quickly, urging Thor along, away from whatever he was sniffing in the grass and dead leaves. 

“You liar!” Phil comes up behind me, poking me in the rib

“Oi!” I jump away from him 

“Come on, tell me.” 

“It’s nothing.” I snap back, harsher than I meant to, and my stomach flips as I watch his adorable smile quickly wipe off his face. He looks guilty, and regret immediately fills me “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” 

“I didn’t mean to pry.” He replies, softly, as we remain stopped in the middle of the path, “You just seemed worried about something, and I thought you might like to talk about it.”

I sigh, “It’s fine. You’re nice. I’m just an asshole.” 

“You’re not an asshole,” he immediately retorts, “Don’t say that.”

“It’s just…” I trail off, kicking dead leaves out of my way as I start walking again, Thor anxiously pulling at his leash “It’s not so easy to talk about…with you.” 

“Me in particular or…”

I wince, deliberately not looking at him “You.” 

“Oh.” Phil is so subdued, so quiet, that my chest actually aches with guilt—a combination of keeping something from him for the first time and having to explain to him that I am. 

“You know I’ll never judge you for anything you say, right? It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, but don’t be afraid of my reaction. I’ll always support you. You’re my friend.” He lowers his voice, “and my soulmate.” 

I freeze, both reeling from the adrenaline rush of hearing him refer to me as his soulmate, and the desire to tell him everything. I can’t explain what happened with James and me to my parents or Adrian or Louise. I’ve got no one to talk things through with, and although it’s bound to be awkward explaining this to my soulmate, what I really need right now is my best friend. In silence, I walk to the nearest bench and sit down. Cautiously, he follows suit and sits next to me. Thor pants happily at our feet. 

“Remember that guy, James?” I blurt out 

“Yeah, your friend. The one you tutor in German.” I see Phil nod in my peripheral vision.  

I take a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for whatever response Phil may have, as I scuff my converse on the pavement in front of me. 

“He asked me out.” 

Silence greets my statement, and after a solid few seconds, Phil says

“Oh.” He swallows carefully, licking his lips before saying, “Okay, and what did you say?”

“I said I’d think about it,” I answer simply 

“Why didn’t you say yes?”  

“What?” I turn to look at him in surprise. This was definitely not what I expected from him. “Um, I don’t know honestly. I mean, I like him, but I’m not sure I like him…that way. I mean…” I swallow hard “even if I did, I can’t….” I trail off, but Phil remains silent, waiting for me to finish. 

“For starters, my parents are pretty homophobic, Phil.” I finally whisper, glancing up at him and his eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open. “If they found out they would probably be distraught.” 

“Why haven’t you told me?” He manages to ask after a moment, his eyes sad

“I don’t know. I was like, 8 when I realized I was probably” lower my voice “Gay—”

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay.” Phil interrupts, firmly. 

“I know, I know. I’ve gotten more comfortable about it because I figured my soulmate was most likely a boy and we could tackle that problem together….” I try not to notice the flash of pain across his face again “After I met you, and we’ve agreed to just be friends…I figured it wouldn’t come up. At least not until after I left home, you know?”

“We can still tackle it together, Dan. You shouldn’t let your parent’s views stop you from dating whomever you want to.” 

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s not like I could keep it a secret if James and I went out. I’m pretty sure Louise already knows something is going on, and probably the rest of the group. Everyone at school is pretty accepting of homosexual soulmates and stuff, so I probably won’t have to worry about bullies…but how long before Adrian hears, or Mom and Dad?”

Phil nods, his brow furrowed. We stare out at the rest of the park in silence. 

“I mean, you could keep it a secret. Ask James not to have any PDA while at school.”

“But I don’t want to feel ashamed of my first date. I don’t want to have to hide it. I figured if I just didn’t go then I wouldn’t have to face this issue at all.”  

“But then you’re cutting yourself off from a positive relationship. James clearly makes you happy, based on everything you’ve told me about him, and maybe there is a chance you could really be happy dating, and maybe even boyfriends.” 

“Yeah.” I nod, “You’re probably right. Plus, Adrian and I have gotten closer. He’d probably be pretty cool about it if he found out.” 

“Good. So, obviously I am not forcing you to do this, but I don’t want you to just throw away an opportunity like this without giving him a chance…for any reason. You deserve to be happy, Dan and if there is the possibility that James will make you happy, I really think you should take it.” There’s a long pause. “because I didn’t.”

“What?” 

“I was 12 when I first realized I was gay. I grew up in a tiny ‘Northern Town,’ and people definitely wouldn’t have been accepting of me, especially back then. I wanted nothing more than to be ‘normal’ so I ignored every feeling I had for my male classmates and dated as many girls as I could, though I honestly didn’t love them that way at all. I also figured that once I met my soulmate that he would know how to help me…and it’s not your fault that we met late. However, once I didn’t meet you when I was 18, I was devastated. The first guy I ever felt comfortable enough to date, the one who helped me to learn how to be okay with my sexuality, was PJ. But it took 24 years for me to feel comfortable, to stop hating myself for something that’s a part of who I am. I don’t want you to have to go through life feeling that way, making the same mistakes I did. So, if you really think you’re not interested, or ready for this relationship, then don’t do it, but don’t say no just because you’re afraid of the social repercussions.”

“Thank you for telling me all of that,” I whisper around the lump in my throat. 

He leans over, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me to his chest. “Of course, Dan.”

“I’m so glad you’re my soulmate.” 

“I’m glad you’re my soulmate too.”   

I pace uncomfortably in my room, holding my phone, one button push away from calling James. It takes another two loops around the carpet for me to work up the courage to press it. I fidget, listening to the phone ring in my ear.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi, James.” My voice comes out a little higher than I intended, and I clear my throat. 

“Hi.” 

“Do you still want to get dinner tonight?” I ask, my words slurring together as I speak too quickly 

“What?”

“Do you still want to get dinner with me?” 

“Yeah, yeah of course!” I can hear his smile as he answers, and I grin in relief 

“Great! So, where should I meet you?” 

“Oh, I can come to pick you up.” He replies quickly, “it’s no problem.”

“Uh, okay…but James…can you do me a favor?”

“…yes?” 

“Could we, maybe, not let my parents know about this?” I can feel a blush form across my face as I ask.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. 

“James?”

“Are you ashamed to be going out with me?” His question is soft and full of hurt, so I rush to clarify. 

“No, no, not at all! God, no, I’m really excited, actually, it’s just…they’re not really accepting of…well, me. They don’t know yet that I’m…”

“Oh.” James sighs “oh, of course. Of course, we can just keep this between you and me. I am sorry for assuming—”

“No, no it’s fine I get it.” I rush to say, and we pause awkwardly. “So how about I meet you two blocks north of my house?”

“Sounds great! I’ll be there at 7.” The smile is back in his voice

“Great!” I reply, “Bye!” 

I sink onto my bed, a stupid grin on my face, hand still clutching the phone. 

Then I hop up and write to Phil on the server

 **Danisnotonfire:** I did it. We’re getting dinner tonight, and I’m pretty excited. Thank you so much!

I stare for a moment, waiting for his response, but it never comes. 

 

It took me over an hour to get ready, the nerves coiling in my belly forcing me to change outfit after outfit before finally settling on my usual ripped jeans and black hoodie. My heart is beating out of my chest, and I can't sit still. Part of me feels like  this excitement over my date is essentially a neon sign above my head with an arrow, reading GAY GAY GAY in flashing rainbows. I have no idea how I'm going to tell Mum I'm going out with a friend tonight without giving it all away.

"Hey Mum?" I call as I start down the stairs "Mum?"

"Yes, Daniel?" I can hear her from the living room. It's probably best if she doesn't see how flushed my face is. 

"I'm heading out with a friend tonight. I'll be home before curfew." I yell over to her

"Alright." She sighs, "Don't get into trouble!" 

"I won't!" I promise, swinging open the door and hurrying into the cool November night. 

I walk the two blocks up to where I promised James I'd meet him. I'm almost ten minutes early, but I had figured Mum might ask more questions than she did. It's chilly, but not unpleasant. I can see the moon peeking through the trees nearby as a slight breeze scrapes fallen leaves across the pavement. 

At the sound of a car, I look up and watch as James' rather beat-up red pick up pulls into view. He rolls down the passenger window. 

"Hi!" He grins,

"Hi!" I smile back, my nerves beginning to dissipate. 

"Hop in!" 

 

We pull to a slow stop on the same street he picked me up nearly four hours before. Although we had intended a two-hour dinner, we sat and talked for far longer than we planned. For the first time since Phil, I feel like I actually have someone to talk to who won't get bored of or dismiss the things I say. 

“Thanks for everything tonight, I had a really good time.” I smile, getting out of James’ car.

“No problem.” He replies, also stepping out, shutting the door behind him. Seeing my slightly worried expression, he grins, “Don’t worry, I’m just walking you down to the edge of the block since I can’t walk you to your door.” 

“You don’t have to.” I blush 

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t?” he laughs, as we walk down the cracked pavement and pause before the crosswalk “Anyway, I am glad you had fun tonight it.” 

“Thanks,” I say again, suddenly feeling awkward lingering at this street corner, under the yellow glow of the streetlamps.  

I give him a hug. His hugs are so different from Phil’s but are no less enjoyable. I notice that he smells sweet, like lemon soap. I go to step back, but he holds on just enough that his arms are still loosely around my waist. I look up at him in surprise. 

“May I kiss you?” He asks, softly, his brown eyes warm, his cheeks flushed. 

I immediately panic, not because I don’t want to, but caught off guard by the immediate thought of god, yes that flashed through my mind. I push thoughts of Phil out of my head and nod, going up on my tippy-toes, my arms sliding around his neck, pressing my lips against his. 

His lips are soft, and he’s so gentle and cautious with his movements. I can feel his mouth already forming a smile before we’ve fully pulled away. When I drop back to the floor, lips tingling, face warm, I glance up to see his smile. He looks exactly like I feel: a little embarrassed, a little surprised and, somehow, really, really happy.

“Goodnight, James,” I whisper as I start across the street.

“Goodnight, Dan.”


	17. November 27, Year 11

    Today is not going well. I don’t really want to get up and do anything. It’s not quite a bad day, but it is something between average and bad. A Not Good day, perhaps. It’s only 6 am, so I have at least an hour to lie in bed before Mum or Dad comes in to inform me I’m wasting my Saturday.

I shouldn’t stay here, though. I’ve been doing my best to follow the suggestions Dr. Bordeaux gave me to help prevent these days, and deal with them when I do get them, and it has been working. I went from four or five bad days a month to one or two, and these weird in-between days. She keeps encouraging me to try talking to my parents about it, and get me to a psychiatrist, and maybe get it down to once a month, but I won’t. They won’t believe me.

Rolling out of bed, I force myself to start my morning routine. It’s one tiny accomplishment after another: out of bed, brush teeth, wash face, brush hair, put on clothes. I start to feel a bit better, so I push harder. Clean room, make bed, straighten hair.

“Daniel—” Mum swings open my door, ready to get angry with me, only to stop upon seeing my clean room, and me awake and dressed. “Oh. Well, I wanted to inform you that your father and I are headed out to meet Mr. and Mrs. Wilson for the day. We should be back after dinner. Watch Adrian, will you?”

I shove away my first moment of despair and put on a smile, “Sure, Mum.”

“Good.” She shuts the door without so much as a goodbye. I don’t know why this still surprises me.

My phone buzzes and I see it’s a text from James.

_Want to go to the cinema with me tonight?_

 

James and I have been going out as much as we could the past few weeks, and I guess we’re technically a couple. It hasn’t even been 20 days since our first date, but I don’t mind. Dating James is like dating the best rom-com boyfriend on the planet. He has been nothing but endearing and sweet: dropping little gifts like a video game or a stuffed animal in my locker anonymously, taking me to the movies, or the beach, or out for coffee or dinner, always picking me up, and occasionally bringing me flowers. If anything, he doesn’t deserve me.

I wince at the thought and try to push it away.

_Not tonight. Sorry!_ I reply to James

There’s a knock at my door.

“Dan?”

“Yeah? You can come in.” I turn to see Adrian open the door and shuffle in. He’s in a green hoodie and jeans. He shifts his weight awkwardly by the door.

“Could you please take me into town today?” He asks, quickly, “Like…now? If not it’s okay, I know you have homework and stuff, but I just wanted to—”

“Why?” I interrupt

Adrian is not allowed a bus card until he’s 13, so he has to travel with either Mum, Dad, or me if he wants to go into town because it’s too far to bike.

He blushes, looking down at his feet “There’s a comic book fair this weekend, and I want to go see it. I’ve saved enough allowance to buy a classic comic, maybe two. The next one won’t be for a year—”

“Of course, I’ll take you,” I reply, putting on a smile. I should get out of the house today anyway to avoid the temptation to do nothing, and there’s no way our parents would take him to an event like this when we should be doing homework.

He lights up, “Thanks, Dan!”

“Of course. Grab your stuff.”

 

    The bus ride is short but crowded. With every bump, bodies slam into each other and apologies are muttered. It’s claustrophobic, but Adrian is bouncing on our bench, a huge smile on his face, unable to keep still the whole ride. He’s off the bus seconds after it stops, leaving me to trail after him.

“Adrian! Slow down!” I yell, and he skids to a halt, just before he disappeared into the masses of the little fair. It’s a dozen or so stands set up in the square, people milling all around them, with vendors of all types calling out for attention.

“Da-an!” He whines as he waits for me to catch up. We push through the crowds, looking at the different comic books. There’s comics as old as the 30s or 40s, and some brand-new editions, every superhero, super villain and everything in between is represented.

“Dan, look!” Squeals Adrian, rushing to a particular booth “It’s a comic by Gardner Fox!”

“It’s by who?”

“He was one of the most innovative and talented comic book writers in the world!” He explains, quickly, “He wrote mostly sci-fi, and he died in 1986, so all of his stuff is super rare!”

“Then get it!” I encourage

“I don’t have enough for it.” He admits, “I’m 30 pounds short.”

I’m opening my wallet and handing him the money before I’ve thought about it, and he stares at me with wide eyes.

“I…I can’t take your money.”

“Think of it as an early birthday present.” I reassure him, pressing it into his hand, “buy the comic.”

He flings himself at me with surprising force, and I stumble back a step or two as his small arms wrap around my waist, his head pressed into my chest, squeezing me tightly. My throat closes, and tears threaten to fall for a moment as I hug him back. How far we have come in our relationship in just two years.

“Thanks, Dan.” He murmurs, his head still pressed against my shirt.

“Of course, Kiddo,” I assure

Eventually, Adrian detaches himself and purchases his beloved comic. As we continue walking, he cradles the bag against his chest with reverence and cares usually reserved for babies.

 

“Dan?”

I turn at the sound of a familiar voice, searching for its owner. James emerges from the crowd, with a grin on his face, and several bags of comics in his hand.

“James.” I smile, wary of Adrian somewhere behind me.

“Funny seeing you here.” He walks closer, and I glance behind me, relieved to see Adrian is absorbed in a stand nearby

“Uh, yeah, I’m here with my little brother,” I explain

“Oh. Do you want me to go?” He quickly takes a step back, putting a less intimate distance between us.

Gratitude floods me. Although it can’t be easy, James has gone out of his way to ensure our relationship remain somewhat hidden to protect me. Meeting me blocks away from my house, never coming over, no PDA at school, and more.

I glance back at Adrian again. He hasn’t moved.

“No, not really.” I admit “But—”

“I’ll be cool.” He promises, “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks.” I smile at him

“Dan?” Turning, I see Adrian has noticed my conversation with James

“Adrian, this is James he’s—”

“Dan’s friend from school.” James finishes, shaking Adrian’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Adrian replies, politely but I can see him itching to continue on.

“Well, we don’t want to slow you down!” I tease, “go on.”

Adrian turns and hurries off, leaving James and me to follow.

We walk in silence for a while, just following behind Adrian

“You don’t have to, you know, follow around my kid brother with me. Obviously, you were here for you.”

“Dan,” James stops in his tracks, forcing me to stay with him “I want to do this. Listen to me, you seem to have this idea that I must be bored, or unhappy, or uncomfortable dating you and that’s just not it. I like being around you, and I like being with you. All of you. Even if we have to hide it from your parents, even when we’re just following your little brother. I want to be here, with you, for all of it if you’ll let me.” 

“Even if I have depression?” I retort, “Even if my parents might not ever accept our relationship? Even if I’m claimed?”

“Yes, Dan.” He replies, almost exasperated. “I want you to call me on a bad day, even if I can’t do anything, I’ll just talk to you, and we can never tell your parents if you want, and as for your Soulmate, I’ll take you for as long as I can get.” He takes a deep breath, “I love you, Dan, in case that wasn’t clear enough. You don’t have to say it back yet, but I need you to know that’s how I feel. This is what I want.”

Part of me is overwhelmed by his speech, and panicked by the ‘I love you.’ The other part of me feels a flutter in my chest, and I reach my hand out to take his, despite the imminent danger of Adrian seeing. I squeeze his hand tightly.

“Thank you, James.”

 

We wander around the fair for another hour.

“Alright Kiddo, we have to go.” I call, “We’ve both got homework, and we’ve been here nearly three hours.”

“Coming.” He whines in reply

I turn to James, “Sorry we have to go, but thanks. For everything.”

“Of course.” He gives me a big smile

I quickly give him a hug, nothing too long or sentimental, in case Adrian sees, but just enough for James to recognize what I’m doing.

We step apart after only a moment

“Bye, Dan”

“Bye, James.”

 

    I’m already exhausted and doing my homework is the last thing I could possibly want to do, but it needs to get done. Plus, I have extra time this afternoon because Phil is away this weekend, and took Thor with him. In fact, I haven’t been walking Thor nearly as much between dates with James and Phil’s sudden affinity for weekend travel. He’s explained more than once to me that his parents are getting old and he has to see them more often, but it still seems like a lot. PJ changed shifts, too, so our gaming nights are all off. It’s been over a week since we last played.

    “Are you gay?”

I choke, sitting up straight and whipping my head around to look at Adrian.

“What?” I manage to gasp out.

“It’s just…” he wiggles uncomfortably in the bus seat, “One of my friends at school said you were, and I told him you weren’t, and he said his older sister saw you on a date with a guy last week at a restaurant in town. Then, I don’t know…I saw you today with James and…I don’t know…never mind.”

He goes back to looking at his phone.

I know I have to explain everything to him. I had hoped we’d get longer than 20 days before I did, but it’s nobody’s fault. I shouldn’t have to hide it anyway.

“Hey, Adrian?”

He looks up at me

“I…I am gay.” I admit, and his eyes go wide, “James is my boyfriend. He’s not my soulmate, but that doesn’t really matter right now.”

“Oh.” He murmurs, “So your soulmate is going to be a boy?”

“Yeah.” I reply, thinking of Phil, “He…will be.”

“Oh.” He absorbs that for a moment

“You know, Mum and Dad aren’t…they…” I try to find the right words

“They don’t like gay people.” Adrian quickly fills in for me, and I look at him in surprise as he continues, “I know. Two kids in my class are girls and soulmates, and Mum wouldn’t let me invite them to my birthday party.” He looks up at me, earnestly “You know I won’t tell anyone right, especially Mum and Dad? It’s not fair to hate someone because of their soulmate. That’s what my teacher says. And I love you because you’re my brother.”

I stare at him, overcome with emotion, before hugging him to my chest in a tight hug, tears dripping down my face “Thanks Kiddo.” I manage to choke out, “I love you too.”


	18. December 19, Year 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit late and please enjoy!

_December 18th_

**Danisnotonfire:** Hey, I couldn’t come by on the last day of school, but I want to give you your Christmas Present. Are you free before 5-ish today?

 **Danisnotonfire:** Is that a no? It’s almost four… 

 **Danisnotonfire:** Can you do anything tomorrow?

_Today_

**Danisnotonfire:** Phil? 

 **Danisnotonfire:** Hello? 

 

I refresh the chat for the third time in under an hour, unsurprised to see no response for the second day in a row. I slump back in my chair, disappointed. It’s the second day of winter break, making it three days since I last saw Phil, and I miss him. It’s already 3:30 and my chances of seeing Phil today are getting slim. Getting up from my desk chair, I grab my phone and find a text from James 

_Hey! If you’re free, I have a fun date idea…but it’s about an hour away so we’d have to leave no later than 5:30._

I can’t help but smile, a familiar thrill of excitement in my stomach. 

 _Yeah, I’d love to go! Meet me at the corner at 5:30?_ I reply quickly. 

We have four places where we usually meet for James to pick me up: The corner three blocks north of my house, the bench two blocks south, the park or school.

 

_Sounds good! Wear something you can move around in._

I squint at James’ text, suddenly nervous, and trying to figure out where he’s taking us. 

 _Uh, okay…_  I reply  _Any hints?_

My phone buzzes again.

_Haha, nope! Trust me, you’ll love it._

I roll my eyes and toss my phone onto my bed. 

 

“Dan?” I hear Adrian yell from downstairs 

“Yeah?”

“I’m heading out with Ryan and Mia okay?” 

“Yeah, sure. I’m going out tonight too. Be back before 11:00!” I bellow back

“Okay!”

I hear the front door shut. 

            Mum and Dad went away with two other couples for the first week of winter break, leaving Adrian and me here alone until Christmas. It’s been really lovely, as we make and eat breakfast together every morning and have a mutual self-imposed 11:00 curfew. Unknowingly, Mum and Dad have given us what might be the best Christmas present ever.  

 

My computer dings and I practically throw myself at it 

 **AmazingPhil:** Hi! I’m sorry for falling off the face of the earth, I’ve been swamped! If you’re free, could we do coffee at Lulu’s around 4:00? I know it’s short notice, so if not, can you do anything tomorrow?

“Shit,” I mutter to myself. It’s a tight squeeze, getting from home to Lulu’s and back in time to meet and spent time with Phil and still get ready for my date with James. But I haven’t seen Phil in days, and I really do want to give him his present. I’ll figure something out with James. 

 **Danisnotonfire:** Hi! Yeah, I can meet you there at 4:00!

 **AmazingPhil:** Great, see you soon!

I’m on my feet a moment later, grabbing my phone, changing into “moveable” clothes, pulling on a pair of comfortable shoes, my coat and grabbing Phil’s gift. It takes 20 minutes to walk to Lulu’s, and I do not want to be late for Phil. 

 

Hurrying down the street, the cold biting at my cheeks, I pull my gloves off just long enough to send a quick text to James

_Can we meet at the park instead?_

Before long, I’ve made it to Lulu’s quaint coffee shop. It’s been months since I’ve been inside, and my chest aches with the comforting smell of coffee, the familiar white-and-blue furniture, and, of course, Penny the piano in the back of the shop.

“Well, if it isn’t my little piano star!” crows Lulu, coming out from behind the counter to wrap me in a hug “Penny and I have missed you very much, my dear! Where have you been? Busy with school?” 

“Yeah, mostly.” I blush, and she laughs 

“I’ll get you your usual. Why don’t you play me a little something?” 

“Sure.” I drop my bag and coat at Phil and my table, before taking a seat on the creaky, weathered piano bench. 

I plink out a few notes, before diving into song. I leap from song to song with abandon, playing around more than trying to finish: Pachebel’s Cannon, Thom Yorke’s _Ingenue_ , MCR’s _Welcome to the Black Parade,_ Styx  _Come Sail Away_ , before finally ending on _Constant Craving_ by K.D Lang. 

 

I hear wild clapping behind me, and turn to see Phil in the doorway. He’s in a snowman jumper, jeans, converse, and his glasses. 

“Phil!” I hop up with a grin, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” He replies, giving me a tight hug 

“I’ve already made your coffee Phil, come on over.” Urges Lulu with a big smile, carrying Phil’s pale blue mug to the seat opposite mine. 

“So how have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” I smile as we take our seats. 

“Uh, pretty good. Busy. Thor’s been a bit under the weather—”

“Really?” I interrupt, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, yeah it was just a cold.” He nods, and silence falls between us. It’s painfully awkward, in a way it never usually is. 

I clear my throat, “Um, so I have your Christmas present.” Digging through my backpack, I come up with the colorfully wrapped package and slide it across the table to him.

He grabs the package and glances up at me as if asking if he can open it now. 

“Open it!” I encourage, and he rips the paper away, revealing a cardboard box.

After a few moments of struggling, he opens the box and pulls out a succulent-filled pot, which looks like a tree stump, and has a little Totoro statue sitting next to it. 

He bursts out laughing, “Oh, Dan! I love it! It’s so cute!” 

“As soon as I saw it, I had to get it for you—Houseplants and Totoro! What suits you better?”

“Well I love it, thank you so much!” He carefully places it beside him on the table 

“Of course!”

“Here’s yours.” He tugs the box out of his backpack and slides the rectangular green-and gold wrapped package to me. I rip it open to find a shoebox and pull it open. For a moment, I just stare. 

“Holy _Shit_ Phil!” I shriek, “Oh my—Holy shit!” 

He just cackles

A pair of perfectly black converse, with stylish leather Velcro straps at the ankle, sit in the box, each with a glow-in-the-dark sword art online insignia on the side.

“Phil” I whisper, pulling one of the shoes out “This is amazing. Thank you so, so much.” 

“I’m thrilled you like them!”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe these even exist, much less that I own them.” I gush, turning the shoes in my hand. “Thank you, thank you.” 

I get up and give him another hug 

“Of course, and thank you too!” 

 

            Things quickly become more normal as we chat for more than an hour, over our coffees. For the first time in months, things start to feel comfortable around each other again. We joke about school, and I complain about all the teachers I hate. We agree that I should start walking Thor again, and both of us avoid talking about PJ and James. 

My phone buzzes with a text from James

_I’ll be at the park in 5_

I wince, not realizing how late it’s gotten. It’s already 5:17.  

“What is it?” Phil asks, seeing my face

“Nothing, I’ve got to get going soon is all.” I shrug

“Oh, your parents.” Phil nods sympathetically

“Uh, no… I’ve got a date with James tonight.” 

“Oh.” Phil nods again, “Of course. Sorry.”

“For what?” I ask, the words out of my mouth before I can stop it, and he stares at me for a moment too long. 

“I don’t know.” He admits after a moment, “I didn’t want to mess things up for you.”

“Oh. Right, well I’ve still got more than 10 minutes before I have to meet James.”

The awkwardness that began our conversation is back with a vengeance, and there isn’t enough time to talk it away again. I feel a little sick and somewhat guilty as I watch Phil stare into his mostly empty cup of coffee.

“Then you should get going. I don’t want you to be late.” 

“Right, yeah.” I nod, standing slowly “Thanks again, Phil. I love the shoes.” 

“Of course, and thanks for the succulents!” He smiles at me, but it seems rather forced

“Anytime.” I reply, my smile feeling like plastic “See you soon?” 

He nods, “Yeah, yeah, definitely. See you soon.” 

I turn and head out of the shop, and start the short walk to the park, feeling uncomfortable, confused, and guilty. 

 

“Dan!” I see James waving through the passenger window at me as I walk towards the car. 

“Hey!” I smile, opening the door and sliding in. I give him a quick kiss, and he pulls out of the parking spot. 

“Are you excited?” He grins, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. I can’t help the genuine smile I return

“Yeah, I am.”

 

This is nothing like I expected. After an hour in the car, we pulled up to an unassuming shopping center and parked in front of a neon red and blue sign reading THE SQUARE. He showed me inside, and after traveling down a long, empty, hallway, we stepped through wooden double doors and into what might have been an alternate universe. We were in a huge square room, covered in classic cowboy gear, complete with a sequin-covered disco saddle above the large dance floor. To the right, there was a bar, and the whole floor space around the dance floor held small wooden tables and chairs. It was crowded with people, most of them in jeans and cowboy boots, sitting, drinking, dancing, and talking. Everyone was smiling and laughing, though you could hardly hear anything over the sound of the music, which ranged from American country music to Pitbull’s _Fireball_. 

“How the  _hell did_ you even find this place?” I gasp, looking around and he laughs

“By accident, honestly. I was trying to find places to take you that aren’t so close, so you’d be more comfortable and say this place and basically said ‘absolutely, let’s do this’ and here we are.” 

Before I can respond, one of the cowboys comes over to us, “Have you boys ever been here before?”

“Uh, no. First time.” I admit, and he grins 

“Great, well, then follow me!” 

He practically drags us both onto the dance floor

“So just do your best to follow along with everybody else. It’s always a pattern that just repeats, okay? Ready?” He asks as another song starts 

“Uh, not really—” I start, as James laughs

“Come on, it’ll be fine.” James grabs my hand as everyone starts line dancing. 

As James and I struggle to follow along, neither of us in time, I see that about half of the people know the choreography to the song, another quarter vaguely understand it, and the last quarter is more like James and me—having no idea what to do. 

 

We dance for hours, taking breaks to catch our breath and grab water in between. We’re sweating and laughing, and have actually learned a couple of the dances. Everyone is friendly and willing to chat both on and off the dance floor. However, it’s nearing 9:45, and I promised Adrian I’d be home no later than 11:00. 

“James!” I call, grabbing his shirt as he starts to get up for the next song 

“Yeah?”

“We should get going, I need to be home by eleven.” 

“One more dance?” He urges, eyes begging.

I roll my eyes, “Fine. One more.” 

He laughs with glee, tugging me out of my chair and onto the dance floor. 

 

We melt into the crowd of other couples as the slow song starts. I’ve got my hands locked around the back of his neck, my head against his chest, and his arms are loose around my hips as we sway back and forth to the music. It’s so safe and comfortable cuddling into him like this, barely listening to the music. When the song ends, James leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. 

“Come on, Bear. Time to go.” 

“Bear?” I repeat, looking up at him and blushing at the nickname

He flushes too “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“S’okay.” I reply quickly, “I kind of like it.” 

“Good. I kind of like it too.” He smiles, “come on.” 

He takes my hand, and we head out of the room, and to the car. 

 

We arrive home with 12 minutes to spare, though we admittedly spent ten of those minutes making out in the car, forcing me to run the two blocks back to the house to get home before 11:00. After quietly making my way up the stairs, I practically collapse onto my bed. After a moment, I grab my backpack and pull out Phil’s gift again. 

Even after such a fun night with James, something heavy and sad pools in my stomach as I hold the new pair of shoes.  


	19. January 30, Year 11

“Fucking hell!” I curse “God fucking—”

“Dan? What’s wrong?” Adrian calls as he walks in the kitchen, freezing upon seeing the mess I’ve made. Everything is covered in flour: the mixing bowl, the counter, the floor, the wall, and me.

“Oh shit.” He gasps, “What did you do?” 

“I was just trying to make cupcakes.” I groan, “and I turned the mixing bowl up too high.” 

He laughs, “Oops. Well, it’ll probably be fine.”

“Yeah. Probably.” I roll my eyes as I start scraping as much of the flour as I can back into the mixing bowl. 

“Why were you making cupcakes anyway?”

“Uh, for James.” I lie 

“Cool. Do you want any help?” 

“No, I think I got it. Thanks, though.” 

“Sure.” He smirks, before leaving me alone in the kitchen again. I fight a groan and place my head on the counter in exhaustion. I’ve been up since 7:00 on a Sunday trying to make these red velvet cupcakes for Phil’s 28thbirthday today, and it’s nearly 10:00. We’re meeting at Lulu’s at 11:30, so I don’t have much time left if things continue the way they’re going.  Sitting up with renewed vigor, I get back to mixing the last of the batter.

 

“Jesus on a fucking boat.” I hiss out as I pull the smoking pan from the oven. They’re hideously burnt, the result of my negligence. I was so focused on picking out what I was going to wear and getting dressed that I left them in for too long. 

“Uh, Dan, I think the cupcakes smell a bit burnt!” Adrian calls from the other room

“No shit, Sherlock!” I yell back, dumping the cupcakes in the trash and heading back up to my room. 

Resolving to buy Phil cupcakes instead, I grab a birthday candle, matches, and my backpack before seeing a new message notification on my computer. I sign in quickly.

**AmazingPhil:** Hi Dan! I thought we should meet at the park instead. It’s such a warm and sunny day. I don’t want to waste it inside! Plus, Thor needs a walk. How about our usual bench?

**Danisnotonfire:** Sure, sounds good! See you soon! 

I quickly type my response before hurrying downstairs and out the door. 

 

Phil was right, of course, it is an unusually warm day for January. There are virtually no clouds, there is a slight breeze and not that many people around considering the weather. 

It’s a twenty-minute walk to the bakery, and I buy two red velvet cupcakes. I carefully place them in my bag, hoping they won’t get too messed up. I walk as quickly as I can to the park, arriving just in time to see Phil about 50 yards ahead of me with Thor. 

“Phil!” I yell, and he stops short, turning to look around. He smiles as he catches sight of me, hurrying over to him. He’s wearing what might be my favorite of his outfits—A short-sleeved collared shirt with little corgis on it, skinny jeans and his glasses. 

“Happy birthday!” I give him a quick hug 

“Thanks!” He grins before stepping back, “Do you mind our change of plans?”

“Not at all!” I promise as we start walking down the path towards our bench. Thor is tugging anxiously at the leash, and Phil leans down and unclips him. At first, Thor trots around nearby, but soon he takes off through the dead grass after another dog. 

“Thor!” I yell after him, “Thor!” 

“He’s fine.” Shrugs Phil as we reach our bench “He’ll come back.” 

“You better hope so. Otherwise, the rest of your birthday will be spent chasing Thor.”

“He’ll come back. It’ll be fine.” Phil reassures me. 

We sit down, and Phil sighs loudly, slumping back on the bench and pointing his face right at the sun, with a huge smile. “God, I needed this.”

“Yeah me too.” I sigh, staring at him. He’s still too consumed with the warmth of the sun to notice. “So, what are your plans for the rest of your birthday, if not chasing Thor around.”

“Nothing much. Mum and Dad are coming to visit later tonight, and we’re all going out to dinner, then coming home for some cake and presents.” 

“That’s really nice!” reply, almost envious “Speaking of cake and presents…”

I lean down to open my backpack.

“You didn’t—”

“Have to get you anything, I know, but it’s your birthday, and you better get used to it!” I interrupt, and he laughs 

“Fine.”

I pull out the rectangular white box tied with baker’s string and hand it to Phil. 

“Part one,” I explain as he takes it and shimmies the string off the box. Opening it, he reveals the pair of pretty red velvet cupcakes, topped with cream cheese frosting and cocoa nibs. They’re only slightly smeared thanks to their trip in my backpack. 

“Dan!” He grins, “How did you even know red velvet is my favorite?” 

“You only talk about it all the time!” I laugh, “and they were supposed to be homemade, but I ran into some trouble and had to scrap it. Hopefully, these will be good too.” I admit as I pull a candle and matchbox out of my bag.

“I’m sure they’ll be delicious—I’ve never met a cupcake I didn’t like! And thank you!” He replies, carefully pulling the two cupcakes out of the box, and shifting over, so there’s room on the bench between us to place them down. I plant the candle in the cupcake closer to him, and after a few failed attempts, light his birthday candle. 

“Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you.” I sing softly, looking at the cupcake rather than his face for fear of blushing “Happy birthday, dear Phil, Happy birthday to you!” 

He carefully picks up his cupcake, closes his eyes, scrunches his nose, and blows out the candle. “What did you wish for?” I tease as he pulls the candle out and drops it into the empty box

“If I tell you, it won’t come true!” He responds, licking the frosting. 

“That’s fair.” I shrug, picking up my cupcake, pulling the wrapper off and taking a big bite. My eyes roll back in my head, and I let out a moan, unable to help myself.

“Oh my god.” I groan, mouth full of cupcake 

Phil starts laughing, and I blush, “Sorry.” I mumble after I finish swallowing

“No,” he continues to giggle “They really are that good. Thank you for getting them for me.” 

“Of course,” I reply, and in an attempt to change the subject, pull out his gift from my backpack with my free hand. “Here. Part two, your actual present.” 

He places his unfinished cupcake back down on the bench and wipes his hands on his jeans before taking the present from me. It’s an unassuming flat rectangular box wrapped pretty well, if I don’t say so myself, in white paper with party hats and confetti all over it. He rips apart the paper and pulls the top off the box to reveal a Buffy the Vampire Slayer tee shirt that I really hope fits. 

He squeals in excitement before bursting out, laughing, “Oh my god,  _Dan_.”

“I saw it at a thrift store, and I couldn’t not get it for you—I remember you telling me about your buffy phase!”

“Phase?” scoffs Phil, and I laugh, “I will always love Buffy, are you kidding me?” 

“Fine, fine, then this suits you even better.” 

Phil excitedly pulls the shirt over his head, and over his collared shirt.

“Phil, what—”

“I’m wearing both.” He explains, determined, “I can wear both.” 

“Okay,” I reply, still giggling 

 

We sit on the bench and chat for a while, watching Thor run all over the place. It’s light and comfortable, and it soothes the craving I’ve had for so long, to just spent time with my best friend again. My heart still aches because as grateful as I am for this time, I know it’ll be ages before we get it again. I turn to stare at Phil, who’s got his face pointed back at the sun again for a moment. 

“I’ve really missed you.” I blurt out, “I mean, things have been so… different. We’ve only hung out a handful of times since Halloween, hardly had time to play video games together, I can’t even walk Thor much anymore. I know I’m guilty of being too busy, but I miss you. You’re my best friend Phil, my first and only best friend, and I don’t want to lose that.” He’s staring at me intently now, having redirected his focus during my monologue. Anxiety plagues me, and before he can say anything, I quickly add on “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring down your birthday or anything. Just forget it.”

He sighs, shifting his weight, tucking his right leg under his left and turning so more of his body is facing me. 

“Dan. I’m not going to forget it. You’re right, things have been different, but change is a fact of life. Our friendship is bound to change as we grow older and change ourselves. If you want to meet for coffee or walk Thor more, I’m sure we can work to add that into our schedules. You’re not going to lose me as a friend, Dan. You know that. However, it’s good that you find other friends too. I mean, you’ve got James, and he’s obviously made you very happy. So, don’t worry—you’re not losing me just because you’re spending time with someone else.” 

“He does make me happy, yeah,” I whisper, and Phil frowns 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m not in love with him.” I admit, bluntly “And nothing is going to change that. I really like him, spending time with him, and dating him and whatever, but…” I shake my head “It’s frustrating. I want to love him the way he loves me, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

Phil is starting now, looking a cross between panicked and sympathetic “Why not?”

I ache to answer him honestly: that I am in love with someone else, my soulmate, my best friend, and how there is nothing in the world I want more than to date him instead of James. But I can’t, and I won’t. 

“Because I’m lying to him no matter what I do. I know I can’t tell him I’ve met my soulmate, and he keeps going on and on about wanting to be with me ‘for as long as he can’ before I meet my soulmate and each time I just nod like a fucking puppet. Because how do you explain that I’ve met you and still want to date him? How can I even explain our relationship? So, I choose the lesser lie, every time, but it wears at me, always. To make matters worse, the one person who I can talk to about all of this seems to have the opposite schedule I do, making it impossible for us to spend enough time together to talk about it.”

“You know.” Phil swallows hesitantly “It’s more my fault than yours we’ve been so distant.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been…making myself busy.” He admits, “You were just starting a new relationship, and I didn’t want to intrude too much or make things more difficult for you. I figured you probably wouldn’t mind if I took a step back. So, I did. I never realized that it might make things even harder for you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” I sigh, and we both shift back to watching the horizon. I can just barely see Thor playing with the little white dog in the distance. 

“So, what now?” I finally ask 

“Well, we need a new system.” 

“Can I still walk Thor?”

“Of course. How about a walk and lunch or coffee every Sunday from now on, minimum?”

“And one Gaming Night a week.” 

“Deal?” Phil asks, extending his right hand to me, his mark clean and dark against his pale skin

“Deal.” I smile, reaching out to shake his hand.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit late! Love you all! 
> 
> ~TempestWolfe


	20. February 14, Year 11

I sit up, gasping for air, choking on whatever flehm had gotten stuck in my throat. My chest heaves with the effort to cough it up, spitting it out into a tissue. My room is dimly lit and littered with tissues and cough drops. I blow my nose again, the skin around it raw from so much wiping with a tissue. Groaning, I sink back down into my pillows. My entire body aches, and despite how exhausted I am, I can’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time without being woken up by a pounding sinus headache or my coughing. I glance at the clock, reading 6:34 am.

 “Fuck me.” I manage to mutter quietly.

I’ve been out of school with whatever nasty cold this is for two days. Seeing as I have no intention of moving, I’m probably stuck here again. For all of Mum and Dad’s flaws, they treat every illness like the plague. As soon as one of us begins a cough, we’re locked away in our rooms, school be damned. So at least it’s not a battle to stay home.

“Dan?” I hear Adrian calling softly through the door

“Come in.” I croak

The door creaks open, and Adrian pokes his head in. “Hi. Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really.” I rasp out in response, “I think you’re on your own again today.”

“Okay. I made you this.” He shuffles into the room and lays a thin packet of paper on my bed, which looks like a mini comic book.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“And Mum wanted me to tell you she and Dad are out tonight, for Valentine’s Day, and they will see us after school tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I mumble, my eyes sliding closed.

“Do you want me to tell James you’re sick again?”

“I’ll send him a text. Thanks, though kiddo.”

“Alright. Feel better.”

I hear him shuffle out of the room and shut the door behind him before I drift back to sleep.

 

By the time I wake up again, a throbbing pain now between my eyes, the house is silent. Stifling a curse, I blindly reach out for the pill bottle next to my clock and toss a Tylenol back. Now, it’s 11:03. After several minutes of lying in bed, waiting for some relief, I heave myself to my feet and with as much strength as I can muster, pull my top cover blanket off my bed and wrap myself in it. Something falls to the floor. Bending down quickly, I grab it, the blood rushing to my head for a moment worsening the stuffiness in my whole face. It’s Adrian’s comic booklet.

Still wrapped in the blanket, and clutching the comics, I make it to my bedroom door and tug it open, light flooding my previously nearly pitch-black room. Groaning, my headache exacerbated by the light, I take a few steps forward and wait for my eyes to adjust before making my way downstairs to the kitchen. I make myself some chamomile tea, the only thing I can imagine stomaching at the moment.Somewhat rebelliously, I snuggle onto the couch with my tea—we’re not supposed to eat or drink on the couch—and read Adrian’s little comic.

It’s another Adriel story, this time he’s facing the bad guy called the “Pneumonster,” a beast whose face is made of two lungs, and whose body is made of flehm and snot. Pretty disgusting, but also pretty impressive for him to draw. The inspiration for this new bad guy seems to be the only good thing that has come from this cold.

Once the tea is finished, I feel a bit better, my throat soothed by the heat. I carefully walk back upstairs before collapsing in bed.

 

My phone buzzes before I can fall asleep, and I wriggle up far enough to grab it, quickly lowering the brightness, before reading the texts on it.

_Happy Valentine’s Day, Bear!_

_Are you still sick?_

_I take it you’re home today. Is everything okay?_

_Please answer me_

_Dan?_

The flurry of texts from James makes me smile. It’s still during lunch, so I call him instead of responding.

“Hey Bear, how are you doing?” I hear his cheerful voice answer and can’t help but smile

“I’m fine.” My voice is strained from coughing and is more of a croak

“Oof, that doesn’t sound so good. I take it no Valentine’s date tonight?”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not contagious, but I could barely get out of bed earlier. We’ll have to reschedule. I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s no problem! You’re sick, Bear, it’s not your fault. I look forward to our future date.”

“You’re the best.” I sigh, smiling

He laughs, “I don’t know about that!”

“You are.” I promise him, “I’m going to try and nap before Adrian gets home. Thank you again.”

“Get some sleep! Bye!”

“Bye.” I hang up before rolling over and falling back to sleep again.

 

I barely register something sitting on the side of my bed, near me, a weight dipping the mattress. A soft touch pushes my hair off my sweaty forehead and readjusts my covers around my shoulders. I open my eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of a flushed face, brown hair, and bright blue eyes. My eyes close again.

“Hey, Bear.” I hear him whisper

“James?” I croak, half awake.

“Yeah. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Slowly I wake up more, opening my eyes, and rolling onto my back

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you.” He smiles “Adrian found me in the parking lot before his bus and told me your parents are gone tonight, so I figured you probably wouldn’t mind if I came over to take care of you a bit. I brought some stuff so we could have a little date here. Adrian promised to stay out of our hair. He’s at Ryan’s for dinner, and won’t be home until 10:00. You’re lucky it’s a Friday.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, a little overwhelmed

“Don’t thank me. This was all Adrian. You’ve got a great brother, you know.”

“I know.” I smile, sitting up more. A cough overtakes me for a moment, and James hands me a tissue. I finish, wipe my mouth on it and, once I regain my breath, ask, “What time is it?”

“Only 5:00.” Shrugs James “So, first things first, go get in the shower.”

“What?”

“Relax and trust me. Nothing feels better than a shower when you’re sick, and the steam will loosen your chest. I got you a candle—I know you like Amber Musk—so you can light it and sit in the bath after you shower, for a bit while I set things up in here.”

He places the candle and a box of matches in my hands.

“Thank you so much, James,” I whisper, leaning into him for a hug. He wraps his arms around me tightly, and he doesn’t respond. He presses a kiss to my cheek, before helping me to my feet. I grab a change of clothes, head to the bathroom, and start the water.

 

“Bear? Are you almost ready?” James calls through the door.

“Yep!” I call back, brushing my hair quickly. I was in the bath for over half an hour, my fingers all pruned, before getting out and getting into clean pajamas. James was right—I feel so much better. My chest is clearer, and my body less achy. Opening the door, my heart flips at the sight of my room.

He’s turned off all the lights and shut off the shades but strung a row of fairy lights over my headboard. There are two more candles lit, one on each of the bedside tables. The room is cleaned, with no more dirty clothes or tissues all over the floor. My sheets have been changed, and the bed is made but folded down halfway so I can get in quickly. On the bed is a tray holding a bowl of soup, a tissue box and some tea, decorated with a rose. A teddy bear sits at my pillow. James’ computer is open with Deathnote ready to watch on it in front of us.

“James...” I whisper, taking it all in.

“Happy Valentine’s.” He whispers

“Thank you so much.” Tears prick at the corner of my eyes as he leads me to the bed. I pick up the Bear, while he picks the tray up, so it doesn’t spill. I slide under the covers, which he folds up around me, before placing the tray on my lap. I tuck the Bear into the crook of my arm as he goes around and climbs into bed next to me, snuggling close.

My anxiety kicks in, not at his closeness, but out of guilt—I could never, maybe would never, do something like this for him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He looks at me curiously

“I’m not… I’m not good at this like you. I want to do something grand and romantic, but I have no idea—”

“Hey, Dan.” James interrupts me, face serious “I want to do this, okay? I don’t expect anything of you when I do this. I promise. Just enjoy it, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumble, snuggling down into his arms more.

“Come on, eat your dinner.” He encourages and I grab the bowl of soup, which looks like chicken noodle. It smells fantastic, and my mouth waters—I haven’t eaten all day. I ravenously spoon the soup into my mouth.

“It’s delicious!” I compliment, “Thank you.”

“Of course. I got it from the diner near school. They’re pretty bad at most things, but they nail soup and milkshakes.”

“Good to know.” I laugh

 

Once my stomach is full, I feel warm and a little sleepy, but a lot better.

“Ready for some anime?” James asks, and I nod. He leans forward and pressed play on the laptop on his knees. I shift closer to him, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders, so my head is lying on his chest as I curl up next to him, content and happy.

 

“Hey, Bear?” I hear James whisper

“Yeah?” I murmur, opening my eyes. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

“It’s 9:45, so I’m going to start cleaning up, okay?”

“Cleaning up?” I ask, still groggy

“Yeah, I thought I’d put the candles and bear in your closet, take the fairy lights home and do the dishes so that way nothing looks suspicious to your parents.”

“Oh.” I nod, “Thank you so much.”

“Anytime.” He smiles his soft smile at me—the one that’s reserved only for me, for moments as quiet and perfect as this. To my surprise, my heart flutters. For all of my doubts and guilt about Phil, I can’t help but find myself drawn to James. Even as I gave my speech about never loving James, I had a flicker of doubt. Perhaps because James is so kind and open with me, or maybe just because he’s available, but I definitely feel...something when I am around him. It’s not like what I feel for Phil, and it probably won’t ever be, but it’s definitely intense and present, and I have no idea what to call it.

I watch as James takes down the lights and hides his gifts before bringing the tray downstairs, returning five minutes later.

“Alright, Bear. I’ve got to go.” He leans down and kisses my forehead, “I love you.”

“Bye, James. Thank you.” I reply, and I watch as something small in his expressions breaks, just like it does every time I avoid the obvious response.

“Of course.” He forces a smile, turns, and heads for the door.

“James?” I call after him suddenly. He looks back.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Sorry for the delay in posting! I just moved into college (William & Mary!) yesterday and have spent the last week or so frantically preparing for the move. I'm still in orientation and don't have much time to write, but once I get on a solid schedule (Maybe by the end of next week?) I will let you know a more consistent posting schedule. Thanks so much!
> 
> Love,   
> TempestWolfe


	21. March 21, Year 11

I fidget nervously in my suit, and I can feel sweat dripping down between my shoulder blades despite the relatively chilly temperature of the room. Peering around the corner, I can see hundreds of men and women, all dressed in gowns and impossibly pressed suits, appearing to glitter under the glow of the room’s two massive chandeliers.

They weave between tables, greeting each other, and ordering drinks as waitstaff run back and forth, arms laden mostly with mixed drinks and wine. The stage at the front of the room is packed with a collection of unique items. The focal point a podium, lit under an intense spotlight. About ten feet beyond the wall I’m hiding behind, surrounded by a circle of tables, is a very glossy black grand piano. Looking at it makes me feel sicker.

I can feel Phil come to stand beside me, a half step behind me. 

“I’m scared,” I whisper

“You’ll be amazing.” He whispers back, “I know it.”

 

Two weeks ago, Phil excitedly pulled me into his office, gushing about my latest piano gig at the restaurant. He had managed to come to every piano performance I’ve had since our deal back in January—a total of four—each time bringing me flowers and buying me dinner afterward. Some stupid part of me likes to pretend it’s a date. In any case, I never tell James where my gigs are because I selfishly want to keep that one thing between Phil and me.

_“So, I’ve been thinking about your piano playing.” Phil starts, sitting down in his desk chair, across from me, “and I’ve decided that you’re too good to only play at Luigi’s restaurant. So, I started looking for other places for you to play, and I found one!”_

_“Oh, uh okay. Thanks.” I reply, a little baffled_

_“I mean, you’re obviously not obligated to, but a friend of mine is throwing a charity event raising money for our local children’s cancer hospital, and they were looking for a pianist to play during dinner, and I suggested you.” He grins_

_“What?” I balk, my stomach completing a full dead drop “You…you told them about…?”_

_“Oh, no!” He hurries to explain, his face crumpling slightly “I just said that one of my students was an excellent pianist and would be up to the challenge.  I said I had heard you in a school talent show.”_

_“Oh.” I nod, a combination of disappointed and relieved, “and when is it?”_

_“It’s the Saturday two weeks from now. It’s a black-tie event, and I could give you a ride there. You could tell your parents that it would look great on your resume and everything, playing for a charity and that it’s under supervision. Plus, even though this is technically an unpaid gig, I’m sure people at the event will want you to play for their paid events.” He excitedly reels off_

_“Wow, um, you’ve really thought this through.” I smile, still a little hesitant._

_“I wanted to do something nice for you after everything that happened earlier this year, and I figured that it would be a great way to show the world what an amazing piano player you are!”_

_As terrified as the prospect made me, I couldn’t say no while looking in his beautiful blue puppy-dog eyes. The smile and joy that radiated from him after I accepted were well worth the hours of practice and panic it was going to end up being._

 

Now, however, staring at the crowd of people I was somehow supposed to play for, I am significantly less sure. Trying to focus on something other than the nerves coiling through my belly, I turn to stare at Phil.

God, he looks so damn good in his tux. At my suggestion, he decided on his glasses and in combination with the suit I swear my knees nearly buckled when I first saw him. The black clothes and hair together seem to make his pale skin glow, flawless, even more than usual. But nothing compares to his eyes—the lack of actual color in his outfit only serves as a platform to show off all the blues and greens and yellows of his eyes. My eyes drift down slightly from his face to his ass, which I have been sneaking glances at for the past ten minutes.

“Dan?” Murmurs Phil and my eyes shoot back to his face, face heating up quickly

“Yeah? Sorry, just spacing out.” I reply

“It’s almost time,” Phil explains, pointing at the man walking up onto the stage as the murmuring falls quiet and people find their seats.

“I know,” I mumble, fidgeting with the tight cuffs of my shirt.

Phil insisted that covering my mark in foundation wouldn’t be enough so instead, I should wear my cuffs as tight as possible around them. I protested at first, as this restricts some of my arm motions, but he was so panicked and desperate about hiding my mark I gave in and practiced in my shirt until I got used to it.

I refocus barely in time to hear the man announce my name to the crowd and hear a literal thunder of applause.

Phil places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it lightly, reassuringly.

“You’ve got this, Dan.”

He nudges me forward and then I’m walking out from the relative safety of the wall and facing the four hundred people I am to play for tonight. Stiffly, I hurry the ten feet towards the piano, a man lost at sea floundering for his raft.

Everything previously tense within me relaxes slightly as my fingers find the edge of the silky wood. I face the crowd the best I can and bow, and another applause follows. I slide onto the bench, which was previously adjusted to my height when I practiced a few hours ago. I rest my fingers upon the cool ivory keys and take a deep breath.

_Ode for Joy_ I think _Nice and Simple_

Then I play.

Just like all the other times I have ever played piano, all of my doubts and worries fade away. I’m a child on the piano, dancing from one end to the other, fingers flying, the keys my jungle gym, the notes my imagination—each filled with color and life and story. They are the stories of other musicians brought to life again and again.

The dinner progresses around me. I have 90 minutes to play as everyone goes through the four courses, and I am allowed a meal myself while the auction runs. I change the setlist slightly, just playing songs in the order, I want them to be now, rather than what I originally planned. Every once in a while, while I am particularly confident about a section, I will hazard a glance over at Phil. He has helpfully been seated within easy eyeshot of the piano. He seems almost knows precisely when I will look over to him for encouragement and is consistently ready with a thumbs up or smile.

As we get closer to the end of 90 minutes, I am quickly noticing that not everyone has finished their main meals, much less dessert. The man running the show runs over as I take a few-second break between songs.

“Excuse me, Mr. Howell.” He begins, “We seem to be running a little late. Is there any way you could play beyond your 90-minute slot? It shouldn’t be long now.”

“Yeah Of course,” I answer, beginning another song

“Thank you!” He sighs, before scurrying away again

By the time we reach 102 minutes, worry starts to fill me as I am running out of well-practiced songs. The man has given no indication that I should stop soon, and everyone seems to be just tucking into dessert. Phil looks over at me, concerned, as he also has realized I’m running overtime. I flash him a smile.

_I’ve got this._

When the last song on my setlist finishes, I decide to take a risk. Instead of playing any one of the songs I already know, I play one of the songs that are my own creation.

As I start the tune I’ve practiced over and over again for more than a year, my heart flutters. Finally, after months of existing only in the headphone cord that connected me to my keyboard, the notes are out on the air, open for anyone to hear. And my god, it sounds so much better on a grand piano than on my keyboard. Pride floods me as I introduce the hundreds of people around me to chords and note-combinations that no one has heard before.

The song begins with simple notes, left hand only, a plinking innocence, before taking a sharp downturn—low notes, minor chords, violent crescendo, and decrescendos—before slowing down for my favorite section. I call it the Phil Phase. Like him, it slowly cuts through the dark, the right hand pulling the left hand out of the low and minor chords into the sunny major chords once again. The tune is bright and happy, consistent. Then, as it did before, the left-hand drifts to the dark and still the right hand comes down to rescue it again. The song comes to an end slowly, with the left hand and right hand playing in perfect harmony.

When I finally finish and look up, the auctioneer is walking onstage, and everyone is clapping. Standing, a massive smile on my face, I bow beside the piano, before heading back behind the wall.

I wilt against it, both exhilarated and exhausted. A moment later Phil has joined me.

“You were brilliant.” Phil grins, arriving seemingly out of nowhere. “I knew you would be.”

“Thank you!”

“Alright, I’ve got to get back, but come and find me when it’s time to go, okay?”

“Yeah, thank you!” I reply before watching him duck back out to the crowd, where the auctioneer’s loud voice booms.

I head back to the small table in the kitchens I was shown earlier and tuck into my dinner.

 

Two hours later, the auction has finished, and people are mingling. Awkwardly, I walk out into the crowd, looking around for Phil who seems to have vanished. I feel so incredibly out of place amongst these people, especially in age.

“Excuse me?”

I turn to see a woman with a kind face, warm eyes, and hair somewhere between ginger and light brown.

“Me?” I squeak, and she breaks into a huge smile. For a moment, she looks familiar, but it passes quickly.

“Yes, you dear. I wanted to congratulate you on such a stunning performance.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” I nod, “it was an honor.”

“Truly, you have a gift. I’ve never seen a young man with so much talent.”

I flush with her praise, “Thank you very much. It means a lot.”

She gives me another bright, familiar smile, “I’m quite a fan of classical music, and I’ve never heard that last one before.”

“Oh.” I shift my weight, a little uncomfortable, “I wrote it.”

“How lovely.” She compliments again “It takes incredible bravery to play an original song at a venue like this.”

“Mum?” I turn, blood running cold as I hear Phil’s voice, and find him staring at the woman in surprise, “I thought you couldn’t make it.”

“Oh, change in plans, my dear.” She smiles, and I realize why it seemed familiar, as she steps around me to embrace Phil.

“Dan, I see you’ve already met my mother, Kathy Lester.” Phil introduces when they pull apart, and I want to throw up.

Phil’s Mum doesn’t seem to register the terror that must be on my face. Instead, she smoothly replies, “Yes, we were just discussing the last song he played, the one he wrote.”

Phil’s jaw goes slack, and his eyes widen, “You…you wrote it?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a year or so.” I blush

“It was quite unique!” nods Phil’s Mum “Do you write a lot of songs?”

“I mean a few…maybe four or five? That one is my favorite, though.”

“What do you call the song?” Phil asks

 “It’s called _Soulmates_ ,” I answer, slowly panicking and I watch Phil struggle to keep his face neutral.

To keep the attention on me, I turn to Mrs. Lester, and I keep talking “the whole song the left hand keeps trying to go to a sad, low place and the right hand follows after and pulls it back up again.”

“Oh, how lovely.” She smiles, “Are you Claimed?”

“Er, no, no, I’m not.” I lie “But the point is that soulmates don’t have to be a perfect match, I mean, the right and left hands are not identical, they’re opposites, but they could still be considered soulmates.”

“What a wonderful message.” Says Phil’s Mum with warmth and interest I’ve never seen in my own mother, before turning to Phil, “Just like you and PJ.”

I try not to choke, and the smile that crosses Phil’s face is a little forced

 “Yes, Mum. Now, I need to get Dan home. It’s already after 11:00, and it’s an hour ride.”

“Alright. Be safe.” She gives him another hug, before turning back to me

“Have a wonderful night, Dan, thank you again for playing.”

“You have a nice too, and thank you for the opportunity,” I reply, smiling. I feel almost guilty under her gaze, which is far wiser and more knowing than it should be. I break eye contact and don’t look back as I follow Phil through the crowd and out the back doors.

The night air is cold, and we walk in silence back to his car. My chest gradually loosens, and I take a deep breath. Instead of going to the driver side door, Phil opens his trunk.

“What are you doing?” I laugh, pausing a couple feet from the car, as he rummages through it. Phil turns around a bouquet of white, blue and grey chrysanthemums in his hands. He takes a few steps towards me, hardly more than a silhouette in the moonlight, and holds them out to me.

“You got me flowers?” I whisper, just staring at them.

“Of course, it’s a tradition.”

I walk forward to meet him and take the flowers. We hug, and I’m not sure which of us moved first, but now we’re clinging tightly together in the parking lot.

_I love you_ I want to scream _I love you I love you I love you_

But I don’t because, somehow, wrapped up in his arms with the flowers he bought be tight in my hands, it feels like it’s already been said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I'm sorry for the super long break, I know its been like three weeks. It's taken me a while to get used to college and everything but now that I have a firm schedule I should be able to update every week/two weeks, probably on Sundays. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you again for sticking with me!
> 
> Love,  
> TempestWolfe


	22. May 8, year 11

I look up excitedly when the bell hanging above the coffee shop’s door rings again, hoping to see James’ face, but it’s an elderly couple making their way through.

After weeks of planning, I am dying to show him everything I’ve been working on.

The bell rings again, and I find his warm eyes and a soft smile immediately. Sliding out of my chair, I jump up and give him a tight hug.

“Happy six-month anniversary.” He says

“Happy six-months!” I reply before sitting back down at our table, and he follows suit, still grinning.

“You’re all dressed up.” He notices, leaning forward to tap the sleeve of my white collared shirt.

“Uh, huh.” I grin, “I’ve got something special planned for us today.”

His eyes practically glitter, “Oh?”

“I figure you’re always the one with the grand romantic gestures, so today is my turn.”

A bemused smile fills his face “It is, is it?”

“Here’s your first present.” I ignore his teasing and pull the simple white bag out from beneath my chair and slide it across the table to him.

“First?” He questions, pulling the tissue paper out of the bag, but I don’t respond. Finally, he pulls out a note with a small pink teddy bear attached to it.

“He’s cute.” James grins, carefully pulling the envelope out of the bear’s arms, and opening it.

“Dear James,” He reads aloud, “Happy Anniversary. In honor of your recent obsession with ‘Sherlock’—” He looks up at me, affectionately annoyed, “It is not an obsession.”

“Oh, shut up, keep going.” I retort, exasperated

“In honor of your recent interest in ‘Sherlock,’” James continues “I have set up a little scavenger hunt. Solve the clues for little presents, and solve them all for your final prize—Oh you actual dork.” James interrupts himself, looking back up to me, his voice soft and fluttery, “Oh my god, you’re so cute.”

I blush furiously, “So you like it then?”

“I love it.”

“Well then here’s clue one.” I reach out and hand him an envelope from my backpack, with a pack of Smarties attached to it.

“My favorite.” He tugs the smarties off and opens the envelope.

“I hope you remember our lessons in German—Oh, you little shit!—translate this for me to find out where we’re going next: Der westliche Eingang des Parks.” He looks up, completely exasperated, a smile still on his face “Well, I know it’s at the Park.”

“Uh-huh, but the park’s big.” I tease, “Where in the park?”

“The…entrance?”

“Which one?”

“The western one. The one where we always meet when I pick you up, right?”

 “Yep!”

“God, okay, come on.” He rolls his eyes, gathers his things

“You’re not staying for coffee?” I call after him

“Nope! I’m on a scavenger hunt!”

Rolling my eyes, I follow him out of the shop and down the three blocks to the park.

 

Tucked right next to the entrance is a small bouquet of roses and baby’s breath, a note taped to the stem.

“Found it!” he crows, grabbing it and sliding the next clue out, reading it aloud again “Dear James: When I look around, I see a light that only glows during the night, it stands on the border, near the zebra lines, where our love first intertwined, that fateful day, exactly six months ago, this May.”

“Bear, what…?”

“Reread it.” I interrupt “and think about where that is. It’s an important moment for us.”

I watch his pretty brown eyes scan the page, his hair falling slightly into his view before his head snaps up.

“It’s the street lamp two blocks from your house. Where we had our first kiss.”

“Mmmhmm.” I nod, grinning

“Come on, we’ll get the car. I’m not walking the 20 minutes there.” He reaches to tug his car keys out of his pocket.

“But it’s nice out,” I whine, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of my house.

“Bear,” he sighs, eyes exasperated but mouth twitching with a grin, “really?”

Taking two steps towards him, I bury my face in his chest, sliding my arms around his back, before tilting my head, so my cheek is against his shoulder, giving him my best puppy eyes. He looks down at me, trying and failing to hide his smile.

“You’re too cute.” He sighs, kissing me on the nose, before dramatically rolling his eyes “Fine.”

“Yee!” I give a little noise of joy, and he laughs, taking my hand, and we start towards the street corner.

 

We get there in 15 minutes, but I don’t point that out. I’m too busy enjoying the warm breeze, sunshine, and the feeling of James walking I step with me. Although part of me worries about someone seeing us, I’m too tired of hiding my love for both Phil and James from the rest of the world. I can take this one, little risk.

I squeeze James’ hand 3 times—I. Love. You.—and quickly feel his four-pulse response—I. Love. You. Too.

“No gift?” he teases when we arrive at the lamppost, and he pulls the envelope off its pole. While his back is turned, I loop him in the black and silver scarf I bought him. He turns around and, using the scarf, I pull him towards me for a kiss, grabbing the front of his shirt once he’s close enough for better leverage.

“Damn, you’re really going all out for this romance thing, aren’t you?” he teases once I pull away, though I’m still gripping the scarf and his shirt.

“Anything for you,” I reply, and a devilish grin flashes across his face

“Is that so?” He murmurs, tugging me up by my waist, forcing me nearly off my feet and kissing me again.

Reluctantly, I pull away after a moment, “we can’t just stand here, snogging” I tease “Now open your envelope.”

“For the record, that was my favorite present so far.”

“The scarf is the present, you dork,” I laugh, lightly shoving him away, “the kiss was just extra.”

He simply laughs and opens the final envelope.

Staring at it for a moment, he groans, “Are these coordinates, Bear! How the fuck—”

“It’s not coordinates!” I reassure him, “I promise. It’s steps. North 12 steps, west 6 steps…”

He gasps, with a knowing smile, “…and this is why you wanted to walk.”

I just smile at him and shrug

“Alright fine.” He laughs, “So 16 steps S is south, I assume so…” He starts from the lamppost and begins his mini journey.

 

Five minutes and several missed steps later, we arrive at the edge of a small forest.

“Bear, what—” Starts James before he notices a tiny Winnie the Pooh figurine with an envelope attached to it sitting on a tree near eye level. He grabs it and rips the envelope open, eyes scanning the page.

“It’s not quite a 100-acre wood, but close enough. Follow Pooh’s friends for your final destination.” He looks up at me, his expression soft and wearing his only-for-Dan smile, “You’re too cute. Winnie the Pooh?”

“A favorite of mine,” I admit, blushing slightly

“You, absolute dork.” He presses a kiss to my cheek, before handing me the bouquet of roses, so he had a free hand for me to grab.

“Come along.” He murmurs, and we start into the forest, following the signs I left earlier reading TIGGER, RABBIT, PIGLET, OWL and finally, next to a blanket and cooler in a little patch of ferns is POOH.

“Ta-da!” I grin, gesturing to our picnic “So what do you think?”

“I think you’re adorable. I think this is adorable.” James laughs

 

We sit down on the blanket, and I start pulling my pre-packed peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches, water and a sleeve of hobnobs out of the cooler, handing them to James.

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” He teases

“Mmmhmm.” I nod, “Now eat your food before we get attacked by ants.”

He just laughs, “Okay, Bear.

 

As we digest, we lie on the blanket, watching the leaves above us move against the sky. My head is on James’ stomach, and his fingers lazily run through my hair as we silently inhale and exhale together. We don’t need to fill every moment with a conversation, and there’s something perfect and peaceful about this moment. Every so often, a breeze rushes through, and the leaves whisper amongst themselves and let more sky shine through the cracks between them.

“Getting cloudy.” James mumbles

“Mmmhmm.” I hum in response as the bits of blue between the young leaves is quickly turning to grey.

I roll over, pressing my face into James’ belly for a moment and he laughs, jolting me slightly. Twisting my head again, so I can look up at James’ head, I sigh, “I love you.”

“Love you too, Bear.” He whispers back, reaching one hand down to clasp mine on his chest.

I close my eyes, completely content.

 

I wake up to something cold landing on my face, and I jerk up, startling James as well.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” James asks, squeezing my hand slightly, “You fell asleep for a bit.”

“I think I felt the rain, and yeah, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it was cute,” James reassures, sitting up and folding his knees to his chest, so we’re closer together. I watch a drop land on James, moments before another two hit me.

“We better start packing up.” I laugh, “We’re going to be soaked no matter what—we’re 15 minutes from your car.”

“Eh,” Shrugs James “We’re probably better waiting for the rain out under the trees.”

“I don’t know,” I answer as the rain becomes heavier, a light mist making its way through the leaves.

“Come here, I have an idea” James grins, tugging off his scarf and putting it, along with the other gifts, inside the cooler. Then he tugs his jacket off and lays it on the grass just in front of the blanket. James pats the coat, and I follow his silent order and sit down next to him. He tugs our red blanket up, and over our heads so we’re covered under the blanket as the rain only grows thicker. We’re pressed close, legs and arms entangled, faces inches apart, sheltered from the rain for now.

“This isn’t going to protect us for long.” I laugh, our faces reddish as the light filters through the fabric.

“But it works for now.” James grins, leaning forward just enough to press his lips to my collarbone.

My breath catches, and my heart rate picks up considerably. James moves, with slow kisses up the collarbone, up my neck to the base of my jaw, under my ear. By the time he makes it to my mouth, water starts seeping through the blanket and onto us. The kisses are wet, and I struggle to get my arms untangled enough to wrap around his neck, my fingers tangling into his hair, pulling him closer.

We lose our balance, and then I’m on my back, halfway out of the blanket, the wet ferns soaking my shirt, a face full of rain. We pause for a moment, and James uses one hand to wipe my rain-soaked hair out of my face, smiling, breathing heavily. It’s pouring, huge drops spattering around us, and everything smells like dirt, fresh air, and James. He closes the gap between us again, and I feel like my chest might explode with happiness. My back is pressed into the dirt and ferns, and my eyes are shut, blinded by the rain.

I tilt my head to the side, gasping for air after a moment, and James rests his lips on my cheek, his breath puffing across my face in warm bursts. I grasp his waist with one hand and his shoulder with the other and heave us onto our sides. I open my eyes to find him staring at me, our noses brushing, eyelashes batting droplets away, breathing together, soaked through.

 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, “That was my first thought when I saw you in the hall. I’d never seen someone so beautiful. I ran into you because I didn’t know how else to say hi.”

“You could have just said hi,” I respond, just as quietly

“I was too afraid.” He admits, “it took me almost three months to ask you out after that.”

“I remember.” I laugh lightly “I was too afraid to say yes, at first.”

He hums in response, pulling me closer to him by my waist.

“You’re my hero.” I mumble, and he blinks in confusion, “You were so optimistic and brave and open about everything. Everything I couldn’t be. The minute I met you, I was jealous of you.”

He laughs, “Me too.”

“Shut up.” I laugh

“Really.” He nods, “I wanted to be as smart, and driven and talented as you.”

“You are.” I promise, “you are.”

We lie there, soaked, cuddling for warmth, until the rain stops, whispering and kissing, and for the first time in my life, I find myself truly in love with someone who loves me back.


End file.
